What I call a stall

When I spied the Judith Mansfield Books stand at the Knitting & Stitching Show in the pretty northern spa town of Harrogate this weekend, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven...

Just a teeny part of the stall

Packed with secondhand books and magazines about sewing, knitting, crochet, weaving, embroidery, cross stitch and printing, not to mention the boxes of old sewing patterns, this was a vintage craft book collector's dream come true.

Wonderwall

Or it would have been if I'd not been working. I was hoping for an hour off from teaching workshops to have a proper rummage, but my classes were all booked up and all I could manage was a dash to Judith's stand just as the show was closing. Judith herself wasn't there but I had a chat to her husband, who told me they don't have a website or sell online, but they do have a seven-day-a-week stall at the Hebden Bridge Antiques Market I feel a special trip back to Yorkshire coming on!

From rags to rugs

Hello Kitty

I never thought this day would come, but I plan to start making a rag rug. There, I've said it.

This shocking realisation dawned on me soon after buying a 1980 book, simply called Crafts, for 50p in Deptford market last Saturday, and seeing with my own eyes that the humble rag rug, staple of Fairtrade shops and student flats in the 80s, when made in the right colour combinations, could actually look amazing.

The patchwork number above is made out of fabric strips and hardwearing twine or string, woven into squares and sewn together. Fear not, you don't need to have a fancy room-sized loom – a basic £10 kids' tabletop one will do the job just fine... click here to find out exactly how to go about it.

Protest singer's pad?

If you can't be bothered faffing about with a weaving loom, this lovely autumnal rug is made by braiding (plaiting) long strips of fabric together, winding the plait round in an oval or circular spiral and stitching each round to the previous one. Depending on the thickness of your fabric and the sturdiness of your sewing machine, you could probably zigzag the whole thing together on a machine. Easy peasy instructions for this one here.

It was a happy day when I stumbled upon my new favourite book. Craft (Book Club Associates, 1980) also features no fewer than 10 different belts to make, plus two hammocks and a picnic basket, which I look forward to sharing with you toute suite.

Normal service will resume soon

Apologies for the blog haitus, I've been doing rather a lot of this of late:

Daring decor

... I look forward to getting back in the making and writing saddle once this move + DIY frenzy is over. Stay cosy! 

More Swedish stitchery

Last September, I posted 1950s Swedish Stitchery, about the beautiful embroidery in the book Hemslöjdens Handarbeten by Andra Delen.

Remember this?

A Pinterest favourite

It's my most popular post by far, so thanks to everyone who has checked it out over the past year. Thumbing through the book once more, I remembered how spoilt for choice I was last time – there were so many lovely images I didn't have space to include – for instance, how did this amazing cushion not make it into the original post?

Blåsväder (Windy Weather) cushion

I had a bash at translating the Swedish captions, but didn't get very far. Love the name of this one though. The hair!

Windy Weather (detail)

I also found out that 'kudde' means 'cushion' and, hazarding a guess, 'mönster' means 'maker', but if there are any Swedish speakers reading this, I'd love some help piecing it together!

Beautiful washed-out pink

I'd give anything to see this thing of beauty in colour – or even to be able to understand the caption...

Is it a bell or is it a tree?

The birds on this Bird Wreath cushion go round in a circle, facing a green leafy garland. Just look at the detail in their wings:

Fåglar i Krans or Bird Wreath cushion (detail)

The one thing I find frustrating about old craft books in general is the lack of colour plates. but colour printing was such an extravagance, it's actually surprising there is as much of it in this 1954 book as there is. There are loads more beautiful images in here though, even in black and white, so watch this space.

1954

When life gives you lemons

Feeling like a lemon

… have a gin & tonic.  That's what I thought when I spied these fresh yellow lemons embroidered on duck egg blue linen in Golden Hands (part 56/vol4) from 1977. I can see this simple design mounted on a board and hung on the kitchen wall.

The lemons are worked in double knot stitch (Palestrina), the leaves in stem stitch and the red satin stitch pips provide a lovely finishing touch.

I'll raise a glass to that – cheers!

Modern macramé

Us Londoners are experiencing our first prolonged heatwave for as long as I can remember, and it's great – just as long as you don't need to use public transport, work, move your body for any reason, wear clothes or sleep.

This hammock was my gateway drug back into macramé

I'd rather be in a leafy garden, book in one hand, Pimm's in the other, swinging gently... in a handmade macramé hammock. Ahhh

Think macramé, think plant holders

It's the law that every 70s craft book had to have a chapter on macramé, and I've always been fond of the plant holders and owl wallhangings. But one too many dubious necklaces...

Extreme accessorising

... bags and belts crept in, and this hippie-ish artform was deeply unfashionable for decades. Maybe I've been looking at Pinterest for too long lately, but the results of knotting very long pieces of yarn – especially white, primary-coloured or neon – are suddenly looking quite edgy again.

Anyway, if you'd like to lounge around the garden in your own piece of fibre art, here are all the instructions for the hammock (from The Book of Creative Crafts, Octopus/Book Club 1978) – and macramé virgins will find a basic guide to the main knots here.

Tapestry time

When I had time to have a good look through that haul of school library books I mentioned, the first thing that caught my eye was this splendid wallhanging.

And it struck me how rarely I see this type of textile art these days, although I do know for a fact that, as well as a mini one in my flat, there are a few cosifying the walls of a Swedish bakery in London and a restaurant on the Isle of Mull in Scotland, like rugs on a wooden floor.

Appliquéd in linen and felt, rather than woven, the tapestry above is taken from a book with one of the best ever covers:

First English-language edition, 1970 (Batsford)

And the back ain't bad either:

By and large consigned to dustbins and attics c1979, I think it's time for a wallhanging revival – and if you'd like to join me, I bring you (free) instructions for the wondrous wall warmer at the top of the post. You're welcome!