The BrocanteHome Puttery Treats Challenge

Today my blog is inspired by Brocante home the source of all delicious, cosy and wonderful in vintage housekeeping. If you haven't yet discovered Brocante home do visit at http://brocantehome.typepad.com The puttery treat challenge asks for a post inspired by a certian puttery treat. I have chosen this puttery treat about vintage fabrics to start me off.

Use the stacks and stacks of vintage linens I know we are all hoarding. Stretch scraps of vintage embroidery over canvas and prop them one leaning against the other on your mantelpiece. Cover a pinboard in a tablecloth. Peg a line of pretty hankies across your kitchen window. Use crocheted table runners to scoop back your curtains. Decide to have a fresh pillowcase daily. Just for the hell of it. (It will be a teeny bliss you will come to adore). Use your bestest teatowels till they are threadbare because that is what they are for- to bring pleasure to something dull...

I rarely buy material and when I do it tends to be an end piece in the sale that has caught my eye. What I have been blessed with in abundance over the past few years is vintage fabric in various forms. Much of it came from my grandparent's house. My grandmother worked in a clothing factory for a while and used to bring home offcuts. When I see these I am transported back to afternoons at Nanny's making clothes for various toys while sitting in front of the gas fire. A plate of homemade buns and a cup of tea usually featured as well.

I've also inherited lots of curtains. Some are pairs in beautiful condition that I feel the urge to tuck away until I have somewhere to hang them. There is a pair in magnificent shiny green that have a gold sheen when viewed from the right angle. Some curtains have been damaged (one has a large round hole in the middle!). I also have pillow cases and antimacassars, often with beautiful embroidery.

The cupboard that I have designated for fabric storage is usually over flowing with bundles of fabric, ribbons and jars of buttons. To overcome this I have paper carrier bags. Only really lovely ones are permitted. I have a Kew one and two deep, dark blue ones from a charming home and kitchen accessories store called 31st of August. Into these I pack projects that are in progress.

Of course, progress doesn't always mean that I have begun the project, merely that the fabric has been designated for a project. I take a Saturday afternoon. Chilly Saturdays are best, but summer days when it is too hot to be outside are also pleasing. I will already have visited the High Street and purchased bread and other supplies for the week ahead. Dear Heart and I will have had a light lunch and he will be lighting a fire (unless it is summer) in the living room and settling down to play with this friends on Xbox Live.

I go up the stairs to the room I grandly call my study, mug of tea in hand. I close the door to block out the electronic beeps from below, disturbing the wind chimes hanging from the door handle. I might play music but not always. It's good to enjoy the small sounds of the house. I begin to unpack the fabric from my cupboard and from the bags. I examine each piece in turn seeing how it speaks to me. Sometimes a piece of fabric is clearly wanting to be made into a bag or a wallet or a dress. Sometimes when I sort through my designated projects I discover that the fabric has changed its mind and wants to be made into something else.

I fold the the fabric with a pattern if appropriate and any trimmings that I have to hand. Then it goes into the paper carrier bag ready to begin. Often a piece of fabric knows what it wants to be so much that I must begin to cut and sew immediately. A beautiful green and white curtain spoke to me this way in the early summer and I made a kind of wrap dress which I wore with white linen trousers all summer. A crocheted doily that wanted to be part of round drawstring bag.

Maybe I'll cut out the pattern. Or pin it to the fabric. Or decide to wash and iron a new piece of fabric. Or look through patterns and sewing books for inspiration. Or change the lace pinned up at the window.

When I've finished I pack all of the fabric back into the cupboard and bags. Maybe I'll leave out on my desk something that is actual work in progress. A piece of fabric with a needle and thread resting in it looks so pleasing lying on the wooden surface with light coming in from the window next to it.

Then (wearing my new creation if possible) I'll venture down stairs to Dear Heart and the fire. He'll hopefully admire my new work of art. I'll top up the mugs of tea and put some more wood on the fire. Then I'll curl up with a book on the sofa, pausing in my reading occasionally to admire my handiwork.