By Stephie, on Monday 13th September, 2010 at 00:28 am
 Get sewing Did you know that the “home sewing pattern industry” began in 1860. No? Nor did I. Did you know that women are supposed to have poor spacial abilities? Yes? So did I. Did you think this was a load of crap? Yep, me too, so this article was an interesting lighthearted read Thoughts on Sewing and Innateness. It was especially interesting since I spent a couple of hours yesterday working out how some knitted ‘bits of string’ went together to form a hooded jacket. Complicated, let me tell you.
I also discovered Rose Rushbrooke’s complicated fractal quilts today through the Feminist Philosophers blog. Now these are seriously insane quilts. Or rather, making one would drive me seriously insane! The woman must have the patience of a saint, hats off to her!
Image from Cornell University Library via Flickr.
By Stephie, on Monday 2nd August, 2010 at 20:17 pm
 
Yes I may sometimes get suicidal, but lithium in my water supply? No thanks! It’s a ‘Dangerous Idea’ over at Big Think. It’s been shown in a study that people in Texas who have natural low levels of lithium in their water supply are at a lesser risk of suicide than the general population who do not. The proposal is to put lithium in the water supply, much the same way as fluoride is, to help reduce the risk of suicide in the overall population. By the way, it seems it also reduces crime and drug addiction… What do you think? Should people like me be drugged via the water supply to reduce the risk of us committing suicide? Or to cut crime and drug addiction come to that? It’s a very scary proposal if you ask me… I left my comments on Big Think, feel free to leave yours here, or there 
Image from George Orwell.
By Stephie, on Monday 2nd August, 2010 at 04:35 am
“I don’t get marriage,” I said. At the top of my voice. At a ‘ladies that lunch’ lunch. The sun suddenly went behind a cloud and I swear I saw one of those Western tumbleweed bundles blow past. It was an exhilarating moment: I had said something controversial, amongst a number of strangers. All eyes were on me and I looked back at them square on. “Sarah’s getting married at the end of August.” It came out of nowhere, like the trilling notes of a skylark. Sarah, a blonde, tanned early 40-something mother-of-two was sat beside me. She looked at me shyly and I looked at her with pity. “Why?” I asked her. “We’ve been together for five years and the time feels right,” she said. I just raised my eyebrows.
“Haven’t you ever been married?” came another voice from across the table somewhere. “No,” I said, “I don’t see the need. I think it’s just a way of handing over your identity.” This last part was completely misconstrued: apparently, to ladies that lunch, “handing over your identity” simply means changing your surname. I began to point out that this wasn’t what I meant, I meant that in the eyes of society a married woman’s needs and wants are secondary to those of her husband’s/the society. The idea of an interesting debate drifted off on the summer breeze along with the tumbleweed. It turns out that the owner of the voice across the table had been married two or three times (I’m not good remembering numbers), so I asked her the same question I’d asked Sarah: why? Apparently it was about “showing commitment”. Commitment to what? At that point in her life she’d made a “commitment” to more men than I ever have. I asked her how long her longest marriage had lasted. (Was I impudent? I don’t really know.) “19 years,” she said, smugly. “My ex-partner and I were together for 23 years,” I retorted. Marriage a commitment does not make. So what is it, really, that makes women want to be married? What do you think, ‘cos to be honest, it’s still lost on me.
This article on Feminist Philosophers‘ blog helps illustrate what I mean. It refers to an article by JK Rowling in The Sunday Times. It’s about how David Cameron planned to give a £150 tax break to married couples – if that isn’t social engineering into marriage I don’t know what is. And please, just reflect on the gender bias of the UK government; what does that say to you? I know exactly what it says to me: men are trying to manipulate me into marriage with a carrot on £150 stick so that they can wipe me off the single parent list, which does nothing for their image with their voters. I say sod you, do you really think I’m that stupid? And you’re not telling me what’s good for me mister, go sort yourself out first.
Oh god, I’ve just noticed it’s 4.30 in the morning. I’ve got to be up again in three hours. Probably time to stop then. Night, night.
Love Stephie x
By Stephie, on Saturday 31st July, 2010 at 13:23 pm
It’s not lost on me that the content of this blog is all over the place. I think it’s probably a reflection of the fact that I can’t focus on one thing and don’t know who the fuck I am most of the time, or where I fit in. Take that little four letter word there. I wanted to say it, so I fucking well did. Yet part of me winces at it when I see it in black and white here on my blog. Trust me, I don’t have any problems with it emitting from my mouth, just my fingers. I make crafts and I put them on this blog, because that’s just part of who I am, but if you can stomach it and look round many of the craft blogs that are out there you’ll see that they’re a nice (wincing at that word too) bunch. And they don’t swear. At all. Are these people real? It’s all a bit twee and happy clappy. I thought I should be nice too and that maybe they’ll come and look at the stuff I make. But you know what, I just realised I’m NOT part of the Martha Stewart or Posie Gets Cozy fan club. In fact, I hate Martha Effing Stewart and I really don’t give a stuff if her readers come over here or not. And I’m pretty sure they don’t.
I also just realised that I’m an artist that also makes stuff. And you know what? Artists swear. Artists get drunk and artists get depressed. Artists even have meltdowns; ask one of those Stepford crafters what a melt down is and they’ll probably reply with something about cheese on toast. If you like to see the words ‘darling’ and ‘sweet’, rather than fuck and twat, go find one of those saccharine blogs like Comforts of Home with the uninspiring rubbish they display. And please, I’m fed up with PINK. Why do people think that craft blogs have to be pink? Vomit. That’s my last word on the subject. Well almost. I’m venting now and it’s difficult to put the breaks on. This is NOT a craft blog. It’s a me blog and I feel like I’ve been buried under being nice and un-opinionated for far too long. The fact is, I AM opinionated. I don’t like rubbish design, I don’t like vacuous writing and I don’t like crap art (don’t get me started on that one, I’ll have you trapped in your seat all day). So, why have I let this blog begin the slippery slope into decline? Well, I suspect it’s a way of trying to please everyone all of the time. And also I’ve been in decline. A mini-meltdown, not of the cheese variety. I’m beginning to peep over the parapet again, so watch out, I may have a bow and arrow at the ready.
By Stephie, on Friday 24th April, 2009 at 23:44 pm
You may have seen me moaning about Oxfam on Twitter. I was shocked at the prices they charge in my local store; it’s not even as though they’re in a prominent place on the high street with high costs. No, they’re tucked well away at the end of a secondary trading area. So how do they make any sales? Truro is not a wealthy place; people in Truro (I assume) probably shop at charity shops because they can’t afford to go anywhere else, not because it’s a trendy thing to do or they solely have some kind of community or eco reason for shopping there.
My local store is selling supermarket branded shirts for £5 or £6 – probably only a couple of pounds less than they cost in the first place and now past their best. Dresses were £15, coats even more! It’s nolonger the sort of place you can go and spend a few quid and revitalise your wardrobe, and know that you’re still helping others. No, now there seems to be a trend for putting the word ‘vintage’ on a label and, regardless of quality, charging a large premium for it: £50 for an old suitcase; £20 for a 1980′s polyester dress.
Shopping at Oxfam has changed, for the worse. Now it feels no different from going into any other high street shop: you feel like a. you’re buying into consumerism; b. you’re likely to be ripped off; and c. it makes you feel bad.
That said, I did come away with one small treasure today, for the princely sum of 99p… Come back tomorrow to see a ‘vintage’ copy of The Quilter’s Guild magazine.
What do you think of your local charity/thrift shops? Do you think they over charge or do you think you get a fair deal? Am I just mean spirited? Should a charity shop be somewhere that the ‘poor’ (ie people in the West in poor financial situations) can nolonger afford to shop?
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I'm running a 28 mile marathon in memory of Josie this February. Come and find out why.
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