Sew Cool

I have always loved the idea of making my own clothes. When I was in high school there was a girl I was friends with who simply oozed coolness from every pore. She also had a little sister who was equally cool - so much so, I invited her to join my band, in hope it would increase our cool credentials. (It did not, but this just says everything about our band).


The thing about the Cool Sisters is that they had a mother who could sew, and who would make, at her daughters' regular bidding, all sorts of eclectic digs. I was intrigued - the coolest thing I owned was a pair of charity shop denim, high-waisted flares. (I know. Not actually cool. But I loved them).


Of course, the reason this seemed so radical was because making your own clothes was no longer common practice. Times had changed, and sewing was no longer the most practical way to clothe a family. The rise of readily-available acrylic clothing provided a more practical option and sewing had begun to die out.


My own mother didn't sew. She was an excellent knitter, but who could bear to see a child destroy weeks of hard work with one tree-climb? So I knew I couldn't ask my mother to make me something to trump my flares, even though I am sure she thought they were hideous. (They were).


On the other hand her mother - my grandmother - was an incredible seamstress, making most of my dolls clothes, and many of my own. I had always assumed this talent was a product of her generation; a life-long skill she had practiced since she was a girl. However I recently learned that my grandmother didn't learn how to sew until she had children - when she realised the practical and economic benefits of making her own baby clothes.


I still admire the thriftiness of my grandmother's generation. When times were tight, everything was used.  Clothes were made to last, mended, and handed down, and there was little waste. Obviously times have changed, and we dispose of far too much. Clothes are bought uber-cheap and then thrown away when they fall apart after a few wears. We could learn how to repair them ourselves... or better yet, make our own clothes. There would be less waste, less cost, and less environmental impact.  Outfits would be more unique, and made to fit. There are so many benefits, yet the majority of girls today have no idea how to use a sewing machine. I was one of them.


So I decided I would learn to sew, and bring the skill back into the family line.  I took a one-day beginners course at The Make Lounge where I learned how to use a sewing machine, and create a simple stitch. I came out with a fully-formed cushion I made myself  - one which I would have happily bought in a shop. Few things feel so satisfying as having made something yourself, and now I am hooked. A friend of mine kindly loaned me her sewing machine, and now I am going to practice. I want to get to a point where I can make a variety of different things; clothes which fit well, and with fabrics I choose myself.


Making your own clothes doesn't mean you also have to have a nose piercing and a worm farm... for a while this was in the realm of hippies, but before them vintage ladies were making beautiful dresses. Coco Chanel was a seamstress before she was a designer.


I have found an excellent book to get me started - "One Piece of Fabric" by ethical designer Lena Santana. So far I've not put it into practice, but the designs are gorgeous, the instructions simple, and I am pretty optimistic that I can make myself  a sundress in time for summer. (Or at least a cushion cover).

Feeling Lucky, Punk?

According to Oxford scientists, the chances of winning the UK National Lottery  is 1 in 13,983,816.  And to really drum home just how improbable this is, they add that the chances of dying between Friday and Monday is 1100 times more than that of winning the lottery.


So why do we play it?


Because, dear friend, there is always someone who wins it. Someone who plays the same numbers every week but never won anything, (except back in '02 when they won £47 and went out for tea). You see these people in the paper: a kind, middle-aged, working-class couple from a small town, riddled with repayments on their washing machine, who will now be able to take nice holidays, and - says the husband - buy that sports car he's always wanted. It's cute, and they're deserving people, and the photo of them grinning and waving a bottle of champagne (the wife always with her hair done and best lippy on - because now she's worth it) is the all too familiar reminder that someone has got to win it.


"And why not meeeeeee?" we all think, although we scoff and roll our eyes when we buy our ticket, and then put it in our wallet and try to forget about it. But you know it's there. I know it's there. And for that short time until the draw is made, we have a small atom of hope that maybe, just maybe, this time it will be US in the paper, spillling champagne everywhere. Every time we joke about "when I win the lottery", we're only half kidding... a part of us still believes there's a chance we might win the jackpot, and all our stress and troubles will miraculously melt away.


Of course, it doesn't happen, and we check the results, and immediately screw up our ticket in disgust. Disgust at our ridiculous dreams and for really thinking that we were ever going to win this. Don't people realise the chances of winning is 1 in 13,983,816?! I am more likely to DIE this week than become a millionaire! Dammit - HOW COULD I BE SO FOOLISH??!!


Still. I've got MY ticket. Have you?

What's All Your Furniture Pointed At?

I don't have a television.
But you can stop with the sympathetic expressions... this is a personal choice. (Yes, really).
The thing is, it never ceases to amaze me just how much we rely on our TV for entertainment, even when there is nothing there to entertain us. I mean, out of the ridiculous abundance of available shows, how many are really worth watching?

Come Dine With Me... Britain's Got Talent... Britain's Got Talent in the Jungle... I'm a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here... I'm a Celebrity Come Dine with Me... Z-List Celebrities Eating Dinner... Celebrity Big Brother... Dancing on Ice... Dancing with the Stars...Celebrity Dancing on Ice... Dances with Wolves on Ice....

(I can't help but feel the decline of television came with the rise of the "reality TV" show. This, of course, came at the same time as the rise of "celebrity" and now it seems the two are so inextricably married, that if you are on TV for more than 5 minutes, you are entitled to paparazzi. Why? Because everyone is sitting at home staring at their TV screen, so if you're on it, you're famous. You don't actually have to do anything).

How many of you turn the TV on before you think about what else you might like to do with your evening? And how many of you channel-surf before settling on the 'least bad' programme on? (Be honest, you don't really want to be watching re-runs of The World's Fattest Pets do you?)

I'm not against television; merely our reliance on it and the overbearing presence of it in our homes and lives. Rather than being an appliance that we go to when we're in the mood to watch something - much like you would pick up a book - most people switch it on automatically, like a lightbulb. It has become a necessity.

Like Joey from Friends said, "You don't own a TV? Then what's all your furniture pointed at?"

People have actually congratulated me on doing away with it - but not as if I have given up smoking, (which would be a more apt comparison...) but as if I have joined a convent.
"Wow... good on you! I could never do that, but I think it's great that you're making that kind of sacrifice."

No I haven't joined a convent, but bless you for your concern. I really love a great TV show - if only there were more of them! -  and there are particular shows that I can't get enough of. Since I don't have a TV I watch them online, or DVD, and this way I can watch them whenever the mood strikes, not because the TV is on and there is sound and pictures coming out of it. (Also, this way my furniture can point at other furniture, which is much better for socialising.)

So alright, what do I watch that's so damn great?
The latest entertainment marvel I'm hooked on is Modern Family.  Now HERE is a show which has it all; it's sitcom, it's mockumentary, it's satire, it's sensitive, it's insensitive, it's heart-warming, it's hilarious... there is no bad guy, there is just one (forgive me for saying it) dysfunctional family, and each character is as likeable as each other. It's unusual. Not since Friends has a show got it so right, but unlike Friends, each episode is individual - a glimpse into a day in the life - and you don't have to follow dramatic "will they? won't they?" relationships and incestuous hook-ups. The most ironic thing of all is that Modern Family feels more like reality than anything I've ever seen on "reality TV" shows.

Watch it here (and give me your verdict:)
http://www.casttv.com/shows/modern-family

I Love You, Google Chrome

I've never thought much about the web browser I use. A long time ago I used Firefox at work; I didn't see the big deal (but then, why would I?) On another occasion, upon the tragic death of my previous laptop, once last resuscitation attempt was tried by installing Linux, and the web browser Opera. I found the entire experience so ghastly that I turned off the machine's life support once and for all.

Apart from this I've not really paid much attention to the browser I use. That is, until my web-savvy little brother discovered I was still using Internet Explorer. His exact words were, "Internet Explorer is to web developers what Hitler was to the Jews." That's a pretty strong statement from the kid you used to share a Commodore 64 with.

Putting this up for a second opinion on Twitter, I was surprised at the level of venomous abhorrence for this household browser. One Tweeter promptly agreed, saying that, "repeatedly slamming your tits in a door is better than IE." As if this wasn't enough pain to consider, another added, "having hot pins stuck under your finger nails and your toes hit with hammers is better than Internet Explorer."

Alright, no more self-harming, I get the picture!

My sibling's instruction was to get myself in tune with Google Chrome immediately. Which I did, because I know that if I want to keep bossing him around for the rest of my life I need to do what he says too once in a while. (And OK, also because he's a web genius and I know he knows what he's talking about). Frankly, the speed and ease of the Google Chrome installation is a tiny preview of things to come. Not only is the layout simple but the speed is impressive. I feel that every time I click a button, a thousand imaginary servants are racing to do my bidding. For the first time I realised just how clunky and unreliable Internet Explorer was. Constant issues with "(not responding)" errors, and, despite the plethora of tabs and buttons and toolbars, I could never find anything I was looking for. (What ARE all those toolbars for, anyway, Microsoft?)

So if you're a believer in the ethos "less is more", and you're tired of the lethargic pace of Internet Explorer, go for Google Chrome.
Or you could try hitting your toes with a hammer, because I hear that's good too.

Designs of the Year 2010

I've always loved the London Design Museum. It's an intriguing white box on the edge of the river, and houses far too many fascinating exhibtions to name. Although one I have been back to each year is the Brit Insurance Designs of the Year exhibition.

Overall my favourite design was Sugru - a mouldable waterproof silicone which can be used to repair or change just about anything. The concept behind it is to "hack things better". In other words, to improve things which are shoddily made, customise them, or fix broken objects so they can continue to be used.

On display was a plethora of household examples - the rubber was moulded into the inside of a shoe to fix the sole which was coming away. It matched the shoe and was seamlessly invisible. Another was Sugru was moulded around the handle of wrench, for better grip, and used to fix together the pieces of a broken vase. One is left wondering; is there anything that Sugru can't do?



Aside the fact that it's clever, what it does is provide a means for repairing and improving items we use every day, instead of throwing them away and replacing them. I LOVE this. We've all become far too materialistic and generally treat everything as disposable. Using something like Sugru is another way to recycle, and extend the life of the things we own. Now THAT is clever.

Quote of the Day

"The important thing is this: to be able at any moment to sacrifice what we are for what we could become" - Charles Dubois

Risky Business

There are times in life when you have to ask yourself that most insightful of all questions:
"What is the worst that can happen?" For me, I was a publishing assistant. I liked my job, but alas, I didn't love it. I had finally got my foot in the door in publishing, and yet after a year I still found myself in the same situation as I had been in before in every other job I'd ever had: I just wasn't where I was meant to be. I knew I was capable of so much more, and yet taking the safe job options was never going to allow me to that.

So I decided to take a leap, and I resigned from my job. And I didn't have any other roles lined up. I just decided it was time to start doing what I truly wanted to do. No time like the present. It is amazing the different reactions a move like this will give you - many friends couldn't understand why I would put myself in a position where I am not earning any money. So many times I was asked, why I hadn't decided to stick out my old job until I had found a new one? I was tired of waiting things out, locking in another safe option, and ending up in the same position. If I wanted to start following my passions, I had to do it right now, and I had to take big risks.

It seemed to me as if we have become so reliant on the security of a job, that the concept of not having one is completely unfathomable. (I had a similar reaction when I told people we were not having a TV in our new flat - people have come to rely on television so religiously that they cannot see past it, and imagine life without one). Yet what I have come to truly realise - not just agree with but actually understand - is that this is our life, right now. It's not a rehearsal. I should have done this years ago, so why wait another day?

Every day we get up, go somewhere, and spend the whole day doing something in particular. So surely we should be doing something we enjoy? Far too many people don't like their jobs but they stay there and continue to do it because they like the security of the pay packet, and the comfort of the familiar. Others admit that they don't like their job but they do it for the money, so that they can fund their lifestyles outside of office hours. Sure this makes sense, and in fact I used to subscribe to this exact school of thought myself, but I've since learned that for me, this isn't the way I want to live.

I was earning very good money as an executive assistant for one of The Big Four firms in London, and while I could buy nice things and go to nice places, I wasn't fulfilled. I was selling my soul. When I took a significant salary drop to work in publishing, I found was much happier, and, most amazing of all, having less money didn't actually make me miserable. Right now I am earning nothing (albeit for the short term - there is rent to pay after all) but I feel great. A little anxious, yes, but believe me - great. I am grateful too that my boss at the publishing company was fantastically supportive, and let me go (replacing me with two people, I might add) because I am now free to work for myself.

Suddenly my fate is in my hands: what I do each day is of great consequence, and my motivation is put to good use. It is an amazing feeling. I have never felt so free! Sure, it's terrifying, intimidating, and my energy levels come and go in peaks and dips. I can spend two days believing I can take on the world, and then spend two days bathing in self-doubt. This is all part of the vital process and it's a test of my commitment. There is no sense of achievement without a challenge.

What is the worst that can happen? You will not end up on the streets, alone, with nothing to eat. You will not lose your health and your family. Frankly, the worst that can happen is you fail, you run out of money, you stay with friends, get another job, and try again shortly. You will find is that all the things you truly need will still be there. Except you will be better off for it.

Of course, you need to be committed; nobody will help you unless you first try to help yourself. I have parked myself at my home desk every day, networking, job searching, applying for paid and unpaid writing tasks, eager to build my portfolio. The problem is, I know I can write. I just need to prove it. But to get the copy proof, you need to HAVE the copy proof.... and there lies the catch.

There are no real hard and fast rules to anything in life - despite what people may tell you - and I know from experience that self-believe, perseverance and willingness to take the plunge will get you everywhere. Somehow, I am going to make this work. Yes, it's a gamble, and no, there are no guarantees for success. But you will never know until you try. When you take a risk you either: a) succeeed; or b) fail, and learn invaluable lessons. Both outcomes are worth the gamble. So why play it safe? To develop and to discover your potential you need to push yourself, and see how far you can go. You are not going to do it in the safety of your comfort zone.

What is the worst that can happen? It's never as bad as you think.

Recommended reading: Why Do We Believe That Our Job Is What Makes Us Worthwhile? by Alain de Botton