Feeling Fruity

orange & lemon blossom fabric

A run of sunny days and blue skies; two consecutive bank holiday weekends with another on its way; and a Royal wedding under our belts.  Is it just me or does everyone seem a little bit chirpier than usual this spring?

I certainly am, as is my desperate urge to feel the sun on my arms and legs.  But unless you're super-organised and have executed a seasonal wardrobe changeover from your winter-wear to summer - trust me I actually know people who religiously do this - you, like me, have been furiously rummaging in drawers and in the back of your cupboard for that floaty blouse and summer dress you wore to death last summer.  Having pulled them out from under a mountain of chunky winter cardies and roll necks I have to say on first glance I felt decidedly underwhelmed and well, bored.  I needed something cheerful.  Okay okay I wanted something new which wasn't an 'investment' piece (yawn) and smacked of something a bit silly and fun - so the whimsical fruity micro-trend, kicked off by those mad dangly resin banana earrings Mrs Prada sported at the end of her S/S 2011 runway show last autumn, was just the ticket.

pop art banana earrings

My sister had managed to nab us both a limited edition Orla Kiely pear tote from Tesco which got the ball rolling nicely but I wanted more.  There's lots out there to play with and here's my pick of the bunch (sorry!) including some sweet fabrics for those feeling a bit crafty.

citrus print dress | red apples playsuit | black fruit belted dress

strawberries & cream poplin | orange & green pears cotton fabric | peaches cotton fabric

cherry necklace | striped fruit top | fruit foulard scarf

Industrious in the Kitchen

 

I love those little coincidences that the blogosphere throws up. A few months ago one of the Berlin blogs that I like to read posted about the Pomeranza Design Ranch which happens to be co-owned by a friend of mine. As well as being pleased that she was getting a positive write-up about her venture, I was also interested to find out about one of their products I hadn't spotted before: Grubentücher. These cotton/linen towels were apparently used by miners in Germany's industrial Ruhr area to clean themselves up after a hard day down't pit. Their absorbency and robust design means they are now finding a new popularity in the kitchen. I made a mental note to check them out next time I went into the shop and then promptly forgot all about them.

Fast forward four months to last Friday where I find myself clutching a beautifully wrapped birthday present from my Pomeranza friend & her partner, and when I open it what do I find but a lovely Grubentuch. Now if that isn't the universe telling me I needed one of these babies in my life then I don't know what's going on.

Certainly, anything that makes drying up more fun (and I'm reliably informed they do that job remarkably well) is just fine by me. Hurrah for beautiful fabrics with a bit of history thrown in (and industrial history too, my favourite), and hurrah for thoughtful friends who know just the right presents to get you for your birthday.

A Stitch In Time

What to write in my first ever blog post? Natalie is of course the seasoned hand at this and can reel off the most wonderful blog posts in the blink of an eye. As for me, it’s been a head-scratcher.

So I’m keeping it simple and starting with a fabric keepsake - my grandmother’s Peranakan blouses from the 1950’s. I should briefly explain that Peranakan refers to the 15th century descendants of Chinese traders who settled and intermarried in what is now known as Malaysia and Singapore - and from whom both my parents’ families are descended. One afternoon, on a visit to Singapore over a decade ago, my maternal grandmother and I were poring over old photo albums while sipping Chinese tea. I was particularly taken with the black and white photos of Nyonya (Peranakan women) elegantly posing in their traditional dress of sarong kebaya – a long sleeved buttonless embroidered blouse (kebaya) tailored to skim over the figure and worn over a colourful batik sarong. “I still have my old nyonya kebaya”, my grandmother told me walking over to an old wooden armoire in the corner of her bedroom. Pulling open a drawer she held up to the light several of the most exquisite blouses I had ever seen. I was smitten.


Made from delicate cotton voile each kebaya varied in colour from pristine white to vibrant turquoise, mossy green to buttercup yellow. The intricate embroidery (known as sulam) on each was of flora, richly detailed around the edges of the seams and sleeves either in contrasting coloured threads or matched to the same hue of the cotton voile.It could take a highly skilled seamstress up to six months to painstakingly stitch just one nyonya kebaya and was an expensive outlay even in the 1950’s. It made me curious about the Peranakan culture I knew little about. Rooted in Chinese tradition and strongly influenced by the Portuguese, Dutch and British. They were known for taking great pride in their appearance and for being skilled artisans in needlecraft, ornate embroidery and intricate beadwork that they used to embellish clothing, shoes and all manner of textiles for the home.

My grandmother’s kebayas had lain forgotten in a drawer for decades. A garment once synonymous with Peranakan heritage and identity had long fallen out of favour with fashion (though I now hear they are enjoying a bit of a revival). Surprised by my admiration for her ‘old blouses’ she gave them to me, and said they needed someone to appreciate them. Even at my slimmest there was never a chance I was ever going to fit into them tailored as they were to my grandmother’s petite frame. Instead I see each kebaya as part of a lost art form and have carefully stored them away for posterity. But on occasion I like to take them out of their tissue paper, run my hand over the embroidery, slide an arm through the sleeve to feel the fineness of the fabric, give a nod to the seamstress who toiled over it, and daydream about the stories hidden in their stitches.

Fabulous Furoshiki

I recently visited Japan for the first time and it wouldn't be too much of an overstatement to say that it completely blew me away. Of course I was expecting to see some breathtaking temples, drink some amazing teas and hold some beautiful ceramics in my hands but what did surprise me was the plethora of absolutely gorgeous fabrics everywhere. From the elegant: who knew so many women still wore kimonos? To the simple: a square of patterned cotton stuck to a bathroom window as an alternative to a blind. But my discovery of the trip were furoshiki. Simple squares of material originally used to transport clothes or goods (think Dick Whittington without the stick) they are now more usually used to wrap presents. Apart from being a green option I think this is one of the most fantastic ideas ever. I mean, who wouldn't want to receive a gift wrapped in a beautiful piece of cloth?

But furoshiki are no niche fancy schmancy thing in Japan. I first became aware of them standing in a queue waiting for the loo. I kept noticing that rather than standing waving their hands under a lacklustre air dryer women were pulling lovely cloths from their bags, drying off their wet hands, then popping said cloth back into their bags. After a little more observation and some investigation I found out what was going on. Japanese people have used thin, rectangular cotton hand towels called Tenugui for centuries. Clearly, a number of people still carry these cloths with them (don't you love that continuation of tradition?). But mobile hand-drying has also moved on: some people are carrying a different type of cotton cloth, one backed by towelling, but many others are improvising and using their furoshiki instead. Perhaps they were given to them as gift wrapping or maybe they've just treated themselves - and they wouldn't struggle to find them, they're for sale everywhere.

Obviously, I was sold on the whole idea and bought myself one immediately. OK, when I say one I mean about twelve. But in my defence these little squares of cotton cloth are about the handiest thing ever. Need something to dry your hands on? Check. Need to mop your brow whilst on the tube? Check. Enjoying a picnic lunch and need a handy napkin? Check. I mean really, what's not to love? And when you get home at the end of the day you just pop it in the wash basket and pick up a new one. Who needs a load of tissues or stolen paper napkins when you can have a gorgeous piece of fabric to do the job?

Not only are furoshiki an eco-friendly choice, I can pretty much guarantee carrying one will make you happy. Each time that gorgeous little square of fabric comes out of my bag it makes me feel all warm inside. Never did I ever imagine a visit to a public convenience could leave me feeling so joyous! So that's my plan from now on, gifts wrapped in furoshiki - well, if I can bring myself to actually part with the lovely things that is.