And this is how we spend our evenings

Sitting watching TV with Significant Otter last night, commercial break comes on.

LL: OHMYGODDIDYOUSEETHAT????!!!!

SO: What?

LL: There was just an advert for a bed and the bed had a TV that went up and down into the end of the bed! [attempts to mime a TV going up and down into the end of a bed. This is harder than it sounds] And it was only EIGHT HUNDRED POUNDS!!! That's, like, how much a TV costs on it's own, plus you get a free bed!! IT'S LIKE A BED FROM THE FUTURE!!!

SO: Firstly, there is so much wrong with how you judge the value of things. And secondly those beds-with-
TV's-in have been around for ages. I've seen them in shops. I've even played with the buttons that make the TV's go up and down.

LL: [looks at SO like he's just admitted to having had a pair of Marty Mc Fly hover-trainers for the last six months and kept it a secret] So TellyBeds are, like, a Thing? You've known about these magical things?

SO: Yes.

LL: And we still don't have one?

SO: We don't watch TV in bed.

LL: That's because we don't have a TellyBed. We've just got a boring, ordinary bed. I hate our bed. It's got no technology in it at all. It's not digitally entertaining in any way.

SO: [with a cheesy wink] The analogue entertainment is good though.

LL: [choosing to ignore this terrible attempt at innuendo] I bet EVERYONE else has a Tellybed except us. This is so embarrassing. This is like being the last people to have a VHS player. We have a Betamax bed.

SO: I'm really not sure they're as popular as....

LL: Of course everyone has one! They're only EIGHT HUNDRED POUNDS. [taps on website on phone]  I can probably get one with Paypal right now...

SO: We are not buying a bed with a TV in it.

Silence.


LL: If we had a telly bed you could sit in it all day and play Skyrim.

SO: And you could bring me snacks and beer and bottles to pee in?

LL: If it meant we could have a technologically advanced televisual bed from the future, yes. I would do that.


I'm still not sure if I won. But I'm not letting this one go.....

I'm saving you from yourselves.

This has not, in many respects, been the brilliantest of weeks.

I'm suffering from is-it-can-be-holiday-time-nao ennuie (five working days, and counting); the sun is shining - which should be a marvellous thing but I work overlooking a glorious park full of sunbathing students and Australians who silently mock me as I sit under the artificial office lights; and I have been forced to deal with a greater-than-usual amount of idiots over the last few days. For example, I had this phone conversation with a Local Government Representative yesterday:

LGR:  I'm afraid the application that you put in has been refused, because you didn't give us the mandatory ten working days to process it.
LL: The one that you have already processed and approved, you mean?
LGR: Yes. We are going to have to cancel the approval because you didn't give us enough time to approve it in - we state  ten working days. You only gave us nine - because of the bank holiday.
LL: But, you approved it within two days. I was actually impressed with how quick and efficient it was.
LGR: Yes. That was a mistake. It should have taken us ten days.
LL: So. Because I didn't give you ten days to do something that you managed to complete in two days you are going to cancel that two days of work AND give yourself an extra lot of admin so that YOUR HEAD DOESN'T EXPLODE WITH THE CONFUSION OF THINKING FOR ITSELF??*
LGR: It takes ten days.

*this bit may have taken place only inside my head. 

*sigh*.

The underlying cause of all this grumpiness, however, can probably be tracked back to the fact that my faithful servant, Juki the sewing machine, threw an immense wobbly at the weekend and has had to be put into machine-rehab in order to think about what she has done. I've been like a bear with a sore head about it all week.

Not to be beaten, however, I've been working on other ways of using fabric.The pendants have proved popular and I have now introduced an accompanying range of compact mirrors. Though I say so myself (which I do, look, I'm about to say it right now), these are a fabulous way of showing off slightly bigger prints. Also, a pocket mirror is an invaluable thing to have in your bag. You can use it for:

• doing your makeup on the bus
•  looking under the sofa for lost treasure/Maltesers/cats
• checking to see if someone is dead in a Victorian thriller
• signalling to ships when adrift on a desert island
• peering round corners without being seen to check if the zombies have gone
• lighting small fires in a survival situation

...and all manner of things. I guess what I'm saying, really, is: buy one of my mirrors. It could save your life.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

 

Pick up your Survival Mirror here: http://www.lemurlady.co.uk/ourshop/cat_570128-Compact-Mirrors.html

Pendants' Corner

Crafty Pirate Pendant

When I first started making and selling my creations, I had a carrier bag full of fabric. This soon spread into a storage box. And another. And another. I'm reaching critical fabric mass now at home and soon will have to actually deal with this - possibly by tidying and filing it all away neatly, or perhaps just with the use of a lot of binbags and a massive tantrum, I haven't decided yet. 

Space Invader Pendant

One box that causes me great consternation is my Scraps Box. Any offcuts that measure above a couple of inches but below the size of a coin purse get stuffed into an old Star Wars shoebox, where they remain, trapped in the dark, for ever. I have vague ideas of some magnificent patchwork project, although the only way this might happen would be if I was suddenly transported into a parallel universe where there were 72 hours in every day.

So it is with great joy and pride that I am able to announce that I have finally found a useful way to bring some of these forgotten pieces of fabric back out into the light and let them take centre stage in my new range of pendant jewellery.

Just look at his boggly eyes...

I've scoured my stash to find the cutest, tiniest, prettiest, and coolest little snippets of designs and placed them in copper-tone bezels, covered with a crystal clear piece of resin to preserve their loveliness. Carrying on the fabric theme, they come complete with a coloured voile ribbon with a clasp and extender chain.

Lemur Lady has always been all about showcasing the fabrics that I find, and what better way than by literally framing them. Tiny little works of art. It's what they deserve, after all that time in the shoebox.

Pendant necklaces are available now from Lemur Lady's Awesome Emporium, for £7.25 each including postage. 

CRAFTfest, this week!

Tomorrow sees the start of CRAFTfest, an online 'virtual craft extravaganza' run by the lovely people behind Creative Connections. From 10th - 18th March, from the comfort of your own home, you will be able to browse over 100 craft 'stalls', showing off a huge variety of the crafting talent out there. No hanging around in draughty village halls or drinking tea from a polystyrene cup in a rainy car park (although I have to admit to secretly liking the 'chip van' tea experience, but that's another story), you can shop with the click of a mouse and buy directly from the crafters themselves.

In case I haven't whet your appetite yet, here's my pick of some of the lovely goodies on offer - click on the shop's name to check out their stall.

Altered Era has some drool-worthy steampunk and Victorian-inspired jewellery. I especially love this bracelet made from old typewriter keys:

This adorable bear may look like he belonged to your grandmother, but in fact he is brand new and painstakingly created by Northfield Primitives, who makes dolls and animals inspired by toys of yesteryear. This chap even stands on vintage Meccano wheels!

I've admired the lovely applique work of MinXtures for a while now. Her PE bags are ostensibly for children, but if I was ever to need a gym bag (like, if the only survivors in a post-apocalyptic world were the ones who could attain a certain level on the stair-climbing machine), I would so end up with this sad-koala. MinXtures also makes fabulous Sonic the Hedgehog and Mario cushions and bedcovers, so you can recreate the console wars of the 1990's in the comfort of your own bedroom.

All these and many many more (including Lemur Lady's Awesome Emporium) will be on display from tomorrow at CRAFTfest. Do pop along and have a gander - when else do you get the chance to visit a craft fair without changing out of your pyjamas? Well, without getting arrested or sectioned, anyway.

If they don't make 'em like they used to - make 'em yourself!

It's no secret to those who know me that as well as superheroes and skulls, I'm also a big fan of all things vintage.

The vintage scene is huge at the moment and there are a lot of fabulous bloggers out there who are much better and more knowledgeable about it than me*, so don't worry, I'm not going to start writing fashion columns or telling you how to achieve perfect Victory rolls while plucking your eyebrows into a sublime arch and rocking your latest peplum (although I'd love to be able to tell you how to do all those things. In fact, if you guys find out, can you tell me, please? I'm rubbish at all of that). In fact I am very much a beginner, until recently more of an admirer from afar, but I have found myself with more and more 'vintage inspired' pieces in my wardrobe.

Being a sensibly-sized person, and with some experience of trying costumes on for stage productions, I find it tricky to find genuine vintage pieces that fit. They'll often fit my waist and hips, but get up to the shoulders and I've no chance. Seriously, did women prior to 1970 have no shoulders at all? It's a pet theory of mine that women of yesteryear never had any need to raise their arms above waist height and therefore it didn't matter that it was impossible to move out of the penguin position at any time.

But, oh, it's those 1930's and 40's outfits, with their slim sleeves, exquisite tailoring and glorious silhouettes that I am drawn to again and again. A 50's circle dress, such as the wonderful repro versions available from Vivien of Holloway, is great for a party (or, indeed, a team of piratical bridesmaids), but it's so much harder to find - and wear - that Golden Age look from a few decades earlier, especially if you don't have the money to a) buy genuine pieces and b) hire minions to hail taxis for you and do all the other things that might require you to lift your arms to an unladylike angle.

So it was with great joy and jubilation that I came across a wonderful US pattern site the other day.

Evadress.com offer a drool-worthy collection of clothing patterns from yesteryear, all re-drafted in order to cater for multiple modern sizes. Everything from achingly beautiful evening gowns to dapper gents trousers (don't forget your pipe), and this frankly batshit-awesome 1887 halloween costume.

My wings are a shield of steel. And crinoline.

It's a costume-lover's candy store and I want to buy and make everything. In the end, I have settled on this beautiful trouser ensemble from 1936. I'm planning on making the view on the left from some sort of smashing tweedy sort of material.

I shall also endeavour to perfect the  Sideways Look of Disdain

The pattern arrived in the post yesterday and I have only had time to glance at it briefly. Like all patterns, upon first glance it feels a little like stumbling across an ancient manuscript covered in complex diagrams and symbols from a language that time forgot, but I'm sure it will come into focus once I look more closely. Otherwise I'll just nip to the British Museum and see if they'll lend me the Rosetta Stone.

It's likely to be a slow project, as I'm simultaneously launching the made-to-order-clothing side of the Emporium (follow me on Facebook for more news on that!), but I shall pop back with updates and let you know how I get on.

I'd love to hear from anyone else who's used an Evadress pattern. How did it work out for you?

*Check out the gorgeous ladies who make up the Vintage Mafia, for starters. The marvellous Fleur de Guerre's Diary of a Vintage Girl is one of my particular favourites. 

And the winner is....

Thanks to everyone who entered my '500 people like me enough to say so on Facebook' giveaway.

Your comments made me, variously, smile, laugh, and snort wine through my nose. I think we have conclusively proved that if we all got to be what we wanted to be, the world would be a happier place. Happier, but very badly organised, with nobody in any service jobs. Also the rubbish would pile up horribly and there would be no-one to work in the banks. Perhaps there wouldn't be any banks? We would all barter services and chocolate. Although all the chocolate factories would probably close down due to a lack of people to maintain the machinery and we'd end up in some sort of weird apocalyptic situation where the world was full of human-octopus hybrids and Disney princesses. So maybe it's a good job we don't all get what we wish for.

For those that have asked, I still don't know what I would like to be when I grow up. I have narrowed it down to:

Zookeeper (lemur enclosure, obviously)
Fantastically well-paid seamstress, but one who gets to keep out of the public eye and works from her own sewing room made of iron in Dorset, with a transporter beam to enable her to travel to London in an instant.
Cocktail taster - but one who magically doesn't get a hangover or liver damage.
Librarian or Post Office clerk. Because I just love stamping things.

Before I get too distracted and start looking for zookeeping courses, I'd better tell you who has won the giveaway.

This is not what it looked like. Shame.

I was going to get Doug to choose the winner, but he showed very little interest in the whole thing and I didn't want to put a dampener on proceedings by using a noncommital cat as an assistant. So instead, I allocated each commenter a number and fed it into a Random Number Generator. Which, in my head, should really be a big machine much like Bertha. (Come to think of it, add 'worker in Bertha's factory' to my list).

Despite a disappointing lack of beeps and whirrs and flashing lights, the RNG came up with (drumroll please), number 6.

It actually looked like this. Rubbish.

And according to my list, that means that Hannah Miller is the winner! Congratulations, Hannah, you may not get to be an archaeologist, but you can at least realise your dream of owning a free Lemur Lady phone pouch or fabric wallet of your choice. I'll be in touch on Facebook.

See you after the next 500!

Free Stuff! Get your free stuff here!

You too could win a purse like this. For no monies.

It's exciting times here at Lemur Towers (I don't live in a tower. Although that would be cool. But 'Lemur Terraced Flat' doesn't have the same ring to it). A whole FIVE HUNDRED people have been impressed/dazzled/confused/button happy enough to click 'like' on my Lemur Lady Facebook page.

That's half a thousand. And they can't all have been mistakes. I'm grateful and humbled and, if I'm honest, a bit overwhelmed.

To celebrate, as promised, I would like to give all my lovely Facebook stalkers  fans the chance to win a free bit of Lemur Lady magic for their very own. Oh yeah.

The winner gets a padded phone case or fabric wallet of their choice. Either from my stock (which will be refilled over the weekend), or a custom one made up with the fabric of your choice.*

The competition is inspired by a conversation the Significant Otter and I had earlier this week:

SO: Look! A blacksmith course. You know I've always wanted to be a blacksmith.
LL: Yeah. Although if you were a blacksmith we'd have to move to the country. You can't have a forge in a South London flat. Especially on the first floor.
SO: I could forge gateposts and sculptures for the rich people in Dulwich.
LL: No. We're moving to the country. You're going to be a blacksmith and I'm going to sew things all day in the sewing room that you will make me. Out of iron.
SO: I'm not sure you can build a room out of....
LL: Also, you will build me a library. Bitches love libraries.
SO: ............

So. To be in with a chance of winning both a handy phone case or wallet and the eternal admiration and respect of your friends and peers, all you have to do is leave a comment on this post answering the following question: 'What do you want to be when you grow up?'. Entries will close at 10am on Monday 6th Feb, at which time I will put all your names in a hat and let Doug the cat choose one to eat. Or maybe just use a random number generator. I haven't worked that out yet. But it will be fair.


*Terms and conditions apply: Fabric of choice restricted to quilting cottons that I can actually source - no platinum thread, linen woven on the thighs of virgins in the Tibetan foothills, or spider silk.