The Excellent Adventures of Mary Bellfield

It was my Great Aunt Mary  who taught me basic needlework skills and showed me how to use a sewing machine.  My mother would take us round to her house after school to be measured up in her attic work room for our next-size-up school uniform or a new best dress, which would generally be ready to wear by tea-time.  I can still smell that attic room – lint and chalk dust and machine oil and dusty boxes of buttons and thread.  And see the brown-paper patterns bulldog-clipped and hung on nails in the wall, and the bundles of dress parts tied up with a spare piece of fabric waiting to be assembled.   I owe her much. 

Mary (far right) on Southport Prom

In many ways a very ordinary woman, Mary Bellfield was not the stereotypical wife and mother of her generation.  The youngest of seven children, she was born in 1906 in east Leeds to Enoch and Mary Bellfield.  Her mother died when she was very young, and she and the younger of her siblings were brought up by their older sister Louise on whom they doted.

Giant's Causeway

Mary and her sister Lily (my grandmother) got jobs in the tailoring trade – a major employer in Leeds in the early Twentieth Century - and there Mary stayed all her working life, except during the war when she was sewing sand-bags!  She worked for a lot of employers, mostly as a machinist, occasionally as forewoman, and had a lot of tales to tell from those factory floors. 

Mary in Venice 1950s

Mary never married.  She had plenty of opportunities and a fair few admirers, but not having a husband and children gave her  extraordinary opportunities and Mary had a greater love: Wanderlust.  She paid her weekly subs to the Workers’ Travel Association, and so saved for trips and holidays.  But not for her the average working people’s holidays to the seaside.  

Lily and Mary (2nd and 3rd left) with travelling companions in the USSR 1960s

As a young woman, Mary went on frequent hiking holidays in the Yorkshire Dales with her WTA pals, staying at farmhouses, but then she got more adventurous.  Decades before foreign travel was commonplace, she started travelling abroad.  

She went on two Mediterranean cruises during the 1930s, again with the WTA who commandeered whole cruise ships.  During the 1950s and 60s she persuaded her sister (my grandmother) to join her on many trips to Paris, Spain, Italy, Poland, Germany, Finland, the USSR.  Sometimes they dragged along my grandfather, Jack, but he was a bit of a homeboy, so mostly it was just the two of them.  (I guess some men would have objected to their wives travelling to foreign parts without them, but my grandfather was a different kind of man.)   As the WTA  started to wind up, Mary discovered SAGA, and off she was again.  When she couldn’t travel abroad, she visited towns and cities in the UK, and right up to the end, we were planning trips to London, and to Paris – her favourite place. 

My grandmother, Lily, by the Berlin Wall 1960s

Sadly, that last trip never happened.  Arthritis had finally got the best of her wandering ways by the end of the 1970s, and tragically, in 1989, soon after knee replacements had given her back her freedom back she became ill and died.

In Italy

In old age Mary was cantankerous and contrary.  She had lost all her sisters and brothers, her beloved niece (my mother) and her best friend (and foe), my grandfather, and she was lonely and sad.  She made friends easily, and lost them just as easily. But she was also full of love and humour and had an open heart.   Along with my sister, I was her carer in her last few years.  It was hard work and tedious, but I look back on those couple of years with a deal of fondness because it was then that I really got to know her, got to listen to her stories.  It was only after her death though, with the help of photographs and memorabilia that I slowly pieced together the excellent adventures of an extraordinary woman.

At home with the family L to R: Anne (my mother), Jack, Mary, Lily.  Early 1960s

Note: It's really difficult to find any literature or information on the internet on the now-defunct Workers Travel Association, but it was formed by Trade Unions and the Co-operative Movement in the 1920s.  If anyone has any more information I'd love to hear it.

August Prize Draw !

Mid August eh ?  That time when you studiously ignore the "back to school" displays in the shops even though you haven't had to actually go back to school for decades !  Even in the days when I couldn't wait for the end of the holidays to get a bit of time to myself those notices still grated on me.  So... if like me, you are making damn sure you squeeze every last bit of summer out of the summer, we've got a lovely summery prize for our August prize draw.

If you want a chance to win one of these little linen coin purses, nip over to our Facebook page and  comment on the Prize Draw post - saying which colour you'd like to win.  If you feel inclined to share it with your friends and encourage them to like our page, that would be grand - but not in any obligatory of course !   Prize will be drawn on Tuesday 26th August at 5pm.  Good luck !

* This promotion is in no way sponsored, endorsed or administrated by , or associated with Facebook.  

Machine Embroidery Tutorial

Drawing with your sewing machine

This is my first ever video tutorial, made with very basic equipment and edited by my son who's much better at that sort of thing than me.  I was concentrating so much on the tutorial and filming side of things that the artistic side got a bit lost, so the end result is well ... a bit odd, but hopefully it gives you the basics of how to go about drawing with your machine !  

What’s Your "Vintage" ?

Have you been watching Channel 4’s “This Old Thing” ?  Dawn O’Porter tries to persuade hapless 20-somethings that vintage clothes are the way to go.  It seems like a nice premise for a programme.  Take some people to a second hand (sorry, vintage) clothes shops and dress up.  The problem I have is this: 1980s fashion IS NOT VINTAGE !  

I recently had someone tell me that Antique=100+ years old; Vintage=50+ years old; Retro = 15+ years old.  (Which makes me …. urmmmm, Vintage.  Ok, less of that.)  Anyway, it’s not about a formula or an official definition, but, well, I don’t care how much the lovely Dawn says they are great, 80s fashions were awful when we were in the 80s and are still awful now.  Wearing them – even if you weren’t born in the 80s – is a RETROgrade step! 

Floral dress, worn to death !

Wait though..... back in the 80s when I was a hip young thing with an eye for what we called second hand clothes (when did we start using the term vintage for anything other than wine ?), I favoured 1950s frocks and handbags.  That’s the same time lapse of 30 years, but did our mums think the clothes were awful ?  The thing is, I think not.  I think that they had moved on and didn’t want to wear them any more (good news for us because the flea markets and the charity shops were full of their cast-offs).  But I don’t think they were embarrassed by them.  Were they ?

I have a liking for architecture on clothes !

So, would you wear fashions from the 1980s ?  Or 1970s ?  Is your wardrobe full of padded shoulders and ra-ra skirts from 30 years ago?  Do you think it’s the next hip thing ?  Or have you spent the last 30 years trying to erase your 1980s wardrobe from your memory ?   Were you young and trendy in my chosen “vintage” era, the 50s ?  

What’s your idea of vintage ?

Competition Time !

I've been sorting my handbag out, chucking out the rubbish and the superfluous and getting it all in some semblance of order. 

A few weeks ago I cleverly decanted various lipsticks and lipbalms into a pallette, but for some reason still keep 4 lip brushes in my bag. Toothpaste but no toothbrush. Wallplug. One pen that works, another that doesn't.

Anyway, it's given me an idea for a competition.  All you need to do is go over to our Facebook page and post a photograph of the the contents of your own handbag.  The best one will get a lovely bright cotton shopper in purple, green, turquoise or black.

We'll choose the best one on Sunday (20th July). The winner will be the picture with the most incomprehensible contents as judged by three impartial handbag-ignorant people !  

Why would I need a wall plug in my handbag ?

So, get photographing !

(My bag is quite tidy now !)

Earphones in little purse to stop me losing the little pad things off them. Speaking from bitter experience here.

5 Tools of the Trade

I know they say “a poor workman blames his tools” but having quality tools really does make a difference.   I have a drawer full of tools, but these are the ones I couldn’t manage without.

1.Scissors: Fiscars 4inch blade

This pair is my favourite.  I’ve had them 10 years or maybe more, and for the past 3 years have used them most days.  I’ve had them sharpened once.  They are still really sharp and glide through even the thickest fabric, like butter.  I have a bigger pair, which are brilliant for large scale cutting out jobs, but only having small hands, I prefer these for general use. 

2.Set squares

This old wooden T-Square was my grandfather’s.  I’m not sure what he used it for but it’s perfect for measuring out fabric.  I also have a couple of large plastic set squares.

3.Thimbles

I don’t do a lot of hand-sewing.  The thimbles get used more often when I’m fixing metal clasps.  All these are inherited and are a perfect fit for my thumb.  Thumbles !

4.Steel Rule

Essential for accurate measuring.  I battle with my son over this one, because he “borrows” it when he’s lost his own rulers, which seems to happen a lot.  It’s a bit bent; I need a new one really.

5.Sewing Machine: Bernina 801

Lots of people have fancy-dan all singing all dancing machines, and if someone offered me one for free I wouldn’t turn it down, but I’d not be without my 1980s Bernina.  It  just has  functional stitches, and I guess it looks quite primitive next to modern machines.  But it is an old workhorse, and I fully expect it to outlive me !  This one belonged to a lady called Audrey, who left it in her will to my aunt, and then on to me.  I also have my Grandmother’s 1960’s Bernina, but it needs a couple of repairs, so I haven’t used it for a while.  At least once a month, I take my machine apart and give it a good clean and I get it serviced by a professional once a year or when I remember !   I’m not the sort to name inanimate objects, but sometimes when I’m using it I think of Audrey and the lovely friendship she had with my late Aunt.  

That's it.  No magical machinery, just very functional tools.  That's how we roll round here !

Flat Friday

Those days, we all get them, when you just don’t have any oomph.  There’s plenty to be getting on with, but your brain is woolly and you can’t focus on anything.  You’re worrying too much about a seemingly unsolvable problem.  All options seem like too much effort. 

When I worked for an employer I had days like this too.  I would spend the day shuffling papers around meaninglessly, or tidy my desk, or spend the day wasting time making cups of tea for colleagues, or surreptitiously and unproductively surfing the internet.  (Don’t tell me you don’t have days like that too.)  So I’m just as likely to have them working for myself. 

Days like these  actually happen less often now I’m self-employed.  Maybe because I love my job.  Maybe because I’m the one that sets the pace and the workload.  Maybe because I’ve got better at motivating myself.  But there I was on Friday, listless and fed up and not knowing what to do. 

I’ve learnt that there really isn’t much point in trying to do anything substantial, because every task I do I’m likely to mess up.  Taking the afternoon off will mean I have to work over the weekend to catch up,  but that’s ok.  So here goes:  turn off the computer, down tools, shut the door…….

Here’s what I did instead !

Spotted a Sempervivum (House Leek) in flower in the garden.  IN FLOWER !  I’ve grown Sempervivums practically all my life, and I’ve never seen one in flower.  How can this be ! 

Made three loaves of bread – all different.  OK, so I do this twice a week, but it's still very satisfying.

Cooked up a batch of spinach – cheap in Leeds Market, needed using before it went off.  Was mesmerised by the sizzling !

Ate comfort food, read recipe books and watched crime drama on cable TV (yes, I confess, this is a bit of an addiction with me.  The comfort food AND the crime drama !  

OK, so no bags got made, no ranges got designed, no websites got tweeked, no photographs were taken, nor books updated.  But batteries were recharged and furrowed brows were smoothed.  All in all, not a bad way to spend an afternoon.

Operation Work Space

How I transformed my studio in a week....

....with more than a little help from my dad and son.

I've been meaning to decorate the third bedroom for, lets see, 13 years now.  So, ever since we moved into this house, basically.  But it's come low on the priority list, despite it's change in use from box room to spare bedroom to study and finally to so-called studio.  The workspace has kind of evolved, lets say depending on needs and resources.  And resources have been minimal.  So I've managed with some old cobbled-together bookshelves, a wobbly trestle table (screwed to the wall for stability) and various bits of timber balanced on top of filing cabinets and the old  treadle Singer.  

And the blue.  Gotta talk about the blue.  It's not that it was a particularly nasty blue in itself, but the decorator (a novice I'm assuming) had adorned it with a plethora of 1990's "Changing Rooms" style paint effects.  Badly.  It was a little oppressive.    

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Added to which I cannot claim to be a particularly neat worker, and the room really is a little too small for my needs.  

I've holding on to a three year old promise from my dad that we could use some of the spare timber and worktops in his store (urm, I mean conservatory) to build a better working space.  But each time we've been near to deciding a date there's been a reason (family crises, surgery, work loads, apathy...) why we couldn't do it.  And to be be honest it all seemed like too much of an effort.  Then, out of the blue (ha ha) last week Dad phoned and said right, lets do it.  (He was under pressure to return the timber store to it's proper use as a conservatory, can't think why !).  So the mayhem began.

Friday: move essentials to the kitchen table and everything else to the bedroom.  rip out the carpets, take down shelves, sort through files, THROW OUT THINGS.  Yes, you read that right.  I threw out 25 year old under-grad essays for goodness sake !  And endless primary school exercise books of my son's that I had been too sentimental or lazy to do away with before.  Luckily the bin-men come early Saturday morning, or I might have been delving through and rescuing papers entitled things like "The services offered by the voluntary sector are a satisfactory solution to the problem of reduced statutory services.  Discuss".  Friday night, climb over stacks of fabric, files, sewing machines, books, paper, to get into bed.

Saturday:  Start with the painting.  Oh yes, and what a difference that made.  My son took a break from AS revision to cover up the dark blue ceiling.  The time I took last summer to impart to him some decorating skills has definitely paid off.  

The next few days involved applying more and more layers of white in an attempt to finally wipe out the blue. And, of course to actually do some work.  I quite liked working at the kitchen table for a few days, but was looking forward to being back in my proper space.  We finally finished the painting on Tuesday in time for the arrival of the flooring, which my son bravely - having never done anything like it in his life - offered to lay. And a grand job he made of it too.

That done I could start reassembling bookshelves and moving things back in.  On Friday, I left the house in the morning to go to my guitar lesson, and returned at lunchtime to find my dad had been, assembled work tops and left again !  It was almost a pity to move all the junk back into the room.  But it had to be done.  By tea-time everything was settled in.  And what a difference !

Continuous work surfaces - what a revelation !  No gaps for scissors and bits of paper and fabric to fall down. No crevices for pins to get stuck in.  Knee room, storage space, WHITE !  LIGHT !  So here I am on a Sunday, a Sunday I ask you, choosing to work at my desk, because it's so lovely.  I can't promise to keep it this tidy mind you.  

Just a final word on the worktop - the one my sewing machine is on: it came from a science lab at Fortismere School in north London, when they were having a refit back in the 90's.  My dad, who was a teacher there at the time, rescued it from a skip as it is apparently "a quality bit of iroko".  I like to think that some of the scratches and chemical burns might have been made by Fortismere's most famous ex-pupil, Ray Davies, and will probably break out into Kinks' songs every now and then !

  

A Grand Day Out

A little trip to National Trust house East Riddlesden Hall yesterday with my cousins.  I’m not sure why I don’t do this sort of thing more often.  At some point many years ago I decided that visiting stately homes and old houses was a bit boring and middle-aged and not for me, and I never revised my opinion.  But it’s time to face it, I’m middle-aged, and I like looking at old stuff.

Credit: Ian Moore

East Riddlesden Hall, in Keighley, West Yorkshire, has been chopped and changed around so much, with extensions here and bits knocked down there, as successive owners from the 17^th Century onwards remodelled to suit their needs.  My dad does that to houses too, ( “that would work so much better if the door was over there and we moved the staircase and built a bit more on here”) so I felt quite at home ! 

Anyway, the main reason we went yesterday, was because my friend Chrissie Freeth is artist-in-residence at the moment, creating a wonderful tapestry called Maides Coign.  We really enjoyed learning about tapestry weaving, and the research that went into the design.  You can read more about it on Chrissie’sblog.

    

  

While we were there I also caught sight of these spirals.  I love a good spiral, as you might have noticed !

Yellow

Colour is the single most important thing to me in my designs, so I was intrigued when a friend recently announced she doesn’t like blue.  She was very adamant about it.  

Chrissie Freeth - Weaver

Chrissie’s strong opinion on a particular colour may have puzzled some, but I liked her definite, no-fence-sitting taste, partly because I thought I was the same.  A couple of decades ago I made a similar statement about orange.  I think I called it an “unnecessary colour” !  There was a phase when I hated all things blue too.  And, after years of shunning it, I find yellow creeping into some new designs.  It’s taken me aback a bit because as a rule I don’t have anything yellow.  Even the garden is pretty yellow-free apart from the obligatory daffs.  

My grandmother's amber earings

But I had a look through my scrap-book last night and found some yellow things.  They are mostly verging on the orange side of yellow, or the mustard side of yellow, or the green side of yellow, but I’ve obviously been warming to it for some time.   There was a definite moment when things changed though, and it's not just the anticipation of spring.  Someone gave me a metre of ochre satin, and when I got home I rather dismissively dumped it on the table on top of some grey wool… and I was smitten.

So the problem is not these rogue colours, it’s what to put them with. I knew that really, didn’t I ?  It’s after all, the single most important thing in my designs.

Here's some more yellow things I'm liking:

 Propolis Necklace by Rachel Lucie Jewellery

InkyLinky Jewellery and Prints

Pendant by Nimanomo

Arghhh….

I had coffee this morning with some fellow designer makers.  It’s a regular thing, supposedly to have a good old gossip and stuff our faces with cake, but we always end up talking about work.  Hmmfff.  A lot of skills and knowledge sharing goes on, suggestions, help, analysis, problem solving.  But, honestly, we do gossip and eat lots of cake too, I promise !  Anyway, this morning… there was much  chat of the kind that makes me go all Homer Simpson (Bla bla bla bla bla, burger, beer, oo look there’s a flying doughnut).  “SEO” “Social network linking” “algorithms” bla bla bla  .  Doh !   Basically the discussion was about improving our online marketing techniques.  I like to think I’m pretty confident around computers and t’internet, but this was scary.   

The problem with running your own business is that you can’t just be good at one thing.  If only it was just all about fabrics and colours and design.  I’m good at that stuff.  But you also have to be good at marketing, and planning, and book keeping too.  Got some learning to do, and fast.

On the plus side, I like learning, and doing the same thing day after day bores me.  So, I’m off to find out how to “do” Search Engine Optimisation”, and how to link blogs and Facebook and Twitter, and how to bring more “traffic” to my website.   The lovely pile of new linen will have to wait.