Hot Lips
It’s funny what strange tricks one’s mind plays, and the weird associations it makes. This morning I saw a fingerprint smudge on a bathroom door that looked like a pair of lips, and instantly I thought of this wonderful painting by Man Ray: A L'Heure de L'Observatoire – Les Amoureux. Giant lips floating in a sunset sky – of course, why wouldn’t they?
I’m Melting, Melting!
Isn’t this tin toy ice cream man just the cutest? He is a little find from a quaint little doll shop in Blackheath, in the Blue Mountains. I felt greedy buying two, and was torn between the blue and white sailor-themed carousel (you can just make it out in the right of the photo below) and this little man. The imminent arrival of my train forced me to hurriedly choose and the primary colours and the blooming cheeks of the ice cream man won out.
There was also a sweet clown on a tricycle tempting me, but the front wheel seemed to be missing, so that discounted him. There was a large selection altogether, including the classic tin robots and monkeys on bikes, all remarkably inexpensive. I remember I had some as a child – possibly a ladybug, or something else that skittered constantly across the kitchen floor.
Meanwhile, Melbourne shows no sign of cooling down by much yet – I feel like I’m melting in my extremely hot apartment, a bit like this melting ice cream truck. This brilliant and witty piece of sculpture, called Hot With the Chance of Late Storm, is by The Glue Society, and was unveiled at the 2006 Sculpture by the Sea exhibition in Sydney. No chance of a storm here and now though, apparently.
Vintage Eye Candy
A light-hearted take on the day, these antique Victorian Valentine cards are the stationery equivalent of little sugar bonbons. Pretty and sweet, and best taken in small doses. That’s why I’ve only included only four for you to look at. If you need a tonic afterwards, check out these ‘Vinegar Valentines’.
Love Pirate
The Love Pirate is a breaker of hearts. He plucks them from the chests of unwary girls and tears them to shreds, whereupon he tramples them to pieces. Woe betide you if you should cross his path! Of course, if you happen to have a needle and thread about your person, you might be able to pick up the pieces and mend your broken heart …
if one love is not forever, the next may be true …
Initially inspired by this page torn from a 1930s romance novel, this series of broken hearts allows the possibility that hearts can be mended; that if one love is not forever, the next may be true. Nerves might be frayed, like the edges of these threads; lives and loves perhaps are old, faded, and secondhand like these old pages torn from vintage books, but the wear and tear should remind us of who we are, what we have passed through, and how we have come out the other side stronger.
You may hate Valentine’s Day, or you may simply be feeling lonely, but once upon a time Valentines were exchanged amongst friends, not just lovers. So here’s my wish to you, single or loved-up: have a happy day!
Love Knots
I often make jokes about ‘researching’ stories on Etsy as opposed to merely wasting time window-shopping, but on the odd occasion it’s true. One discovery in the store Beautiful Reign while on a search on 1920s boudoir caps led to some craft-making. I thought these ribbon flowers were very pretty, but never bought them. After they were sold, I decided I could very likely make my own.
It’s not so easy to find modern ribbon made from silk, or even rayon, and I decided to use inexpensive polyester for my prototype. I purchased 2 metres of 6mm ribbon in a peachy colour, a typical 1920s lingerie shade.
By carefully examining the originals, I determined a method to simulate them. They were 2¼ inch in diameter, so I estimated one knot about every 10cm would suffice. These knots, by the way, I discovered were referred to as ‘love knots’. Experimenting with the size of the loops, I saw that I would need to use the entire 2m on one flower, not two as I’d originally supposed.
Once I had finished tying fairly loose knots along the entire length (leaving about 15cm untied at each end just in case I should require it), I began forming and sewing the loops together. (Don’t use a rusty needle as I did!)
The flower was completed with a last knot over the middle to hide the stitches.
Amongst my supplies I already had a couple of spare brooch pins, and using the extra ribbon from each end, I attached the flower to the pin and wrapped ribbon around the base. It’s a much nicer finish than the original 1920s versions, if I do say so myself. Some flapper had lazily stitched the flowers to safety pins.
My flower ended up a little bigger, about 10cm or 3” across, but I think they are not too shabby for a first attempt. Certainly a natural fibre ribbon would sit, and feel, much nicer too.
Right, back to Etsy for some legitimate late-night shopping for vintage ribbon …