The Two Tone iPhone

Hark, Rejoice! It's Friend Sarah's birthday!  But what to you make the girl who has already been the recipient of everything that's in my powers to make has everything?  Although I had my suspicions that a ten+ year friendship with yours truly was gift enough, I thought I should cover my back.

And her phone.  Coincidentally matching wrapping paper for the win!

I picked up both of these leather pelts at Edinburgh Fabrics earlier this year (forgetting that I already had royal blue at home) because my memory is short and orange and blue are irresistable together.  I played around with a lot of shapes for the design on the back and almost made a variegated triangle design  before settling on a chevron effect. So 2012, I know.

Both of the pelts are thin and supple but the orange proved almost too much so- it was almost stretchy.  So I made a last minute call to reinforce the strap with another layer of blue for stability.

And another triangular layer of orange to catch on the strap if it starts to distort and grow. Although Sarah has a long and illustrious career as a phone cover loser, I don't want her to also be a phone loser.

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The Best Kind of Scallops Leather Clutch

There were joint-birthday celebrations for me and Friend Sarah this weekend.  Having previously regaled her with everything in my sewing arsenal (a makeup bag, a smaller makeup bag, a phone cozy, a Kindle cover, a shirt, a glasses case) I was flummoxed with what to make her.  And then I remembered: about six months ago she looked at a leather clutch in a shop for at least fifteen seconds.  She probably wanted one.  A plan was hatched.

Looking through my Pinterest boards, I was immediately drawn to this scalloped leather clutch by Me Sew Crazy.   But with entirely different dimensions, the addition of a zipper and lining, snazzy contrast stitching and precisely zero hand sewing.  And by snazzy, I mean  questionable.

Because Sarah is very special, she was allowed to have some of my precious Liberty leather. Because she is also very gracious and tactful, she said she would use it for a wedding this weekend.  I will have to follow her secretly to find out.

In other birthday girl news, after only 32 months of pining, my in-laws made my life complete.

Stunning, flawless, flattering.

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The Festive Frock

It was the annual Kitschy Coo Christmas party on Saturday (this basically just means me and Friend Sarah hit the town), and I rustled up a festive frock shortly before / during / after I was supposed to meet her. It took me less than an hour, but I was still late. It's a red ponte knit using my cowl neck pattern but with a normal neckline. It has super-long sleeves in my futile effort to keep my wrists and hands warm.

I had every intention of being a proper blogger and getting pictures early on at the picturesque Christmas market, but it was crowded and freezing so I pulled my typical headless bathroom shots near the end of the night. I am nothing if not classy.

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The mini, *mini*, MINI mod dress

When in Belfast I bought a dozen long sleeve t-shirts in different colours for layering; this stripey one is my favourite. However, the t-shirts are too tight to me to feel comfortable wearing them by themselves. Ergo, I decided I needed some jumper dresses.

The mod vibe is strong right now, so I made the cut drop-waisted with double top-stitched centre seams. The pocket flaps are decorative rather than functional. I used a brushed-back french terry for a bit of stability. It's nearly impossible to photograph detail on full black, but you might be able to see it if you squint hard enough. No squinting is required to see that it is far too short for a respectable lady of my age.

All this Amanda-centred-sewing was precipitated by an invitation to socialise with Friend Sarah and some of her police pals tomorrow night, and having nothing to wear. Chances that I would get arrested for indecent exposure? Considerable.

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The Green Eyed Monster Top

Shall we just call this week Friend Sarah Week? Yes, she has already been regaled with a make-up pouch but I felt a bit boring making / gifting it so I wanted to make her something else.

The astute amongst you will notice that it is not, in fact, Friend Sarah modelling the top: it's me. I'm lucky that we're pretty much the same size and shape; whether she is lucky if up to debate. You might also notice that my top half is ready for summer, while my bottom half is languishing is Scottish pre-winter. That is because in less than two weeks, Sarah is off on a two week holiday to Italy. My favourite place. No one should be able to go to Italy without me, the injustice of it is maddening. It must be a sign of my increasing maturity that I made her a top under such trying circumstances.

The top is actually a wearable muslin (well, version two of a muslin). Scoop neck, batwing sleeves, and a side bust dart for a tiny bit of shaping. I can't remember the fabric content but there is definitely some evil in it, maybe poly-evil? I made the baby-est of baby hems but had to contend with a lot of slipping and warping. There are side slits and the back is slightly caped so her kidneys don't get a chill. Grandmothers everywhere rejoice.

My intention in designing this pattern was because I have some gorgeous Liberty silk that I though would suit a top in this shape, being nicely drapey and smooth, but now I'm second-guessing... What say you, internet?

Suggested comments:

• Yes, have no qualms using your precious hoarded silk to do this.
• No, have qualms. But use your silk to make (insert good idea).
• I have a really good technique for seaming evil fabrics and it's (insert good idea).
• Your ombre hair is bang on trend and I am pinning it.
  

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The Redundant Pouch

Even excluding present company, all the best birthdays fall in the last week of August... my Dad, my best friend from university, the object of my obsession, and Friend Sarah.

After the success of last year's capacious make-up pouches, a request was put in for a smaller model. Ostensibly, it's for her handbag; rationally, it's because she doesn't need that much makeup.

Using my body as inspiration, this pouch has a flat bottom. Also like me, it's able to stand up by itself.

I have it on good authority (Friend Sarah texted me) that it has already been trialled and deemed sufficient. I have very stringent quality control though, and have secured a night out tonight to confirm.

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The Amazing Psychedelic Holiday Experience

This is what going on holiday looks like when you're five. Or thirty one, pulling an all-nighter because you had twenty eight things on your To Do list and we're off to the airport at 3:30AM anyway. I am so efficient, people, you have never seen anything like it. Everyone else is getting up in half and hour, and here I am doing stuff. Amazing.

For those of you who follow the blog for the express purpose of finding out when we're away so you can burgle us, do not even bother. Reasons why:

1. Queen of the over-packers. There is nothing left to steal, not even my new epilator.
2. We live in a flat, in a building full of geriatrics. They are always around, they never sleep and they're nosy as hell. Before you even get the first load of random, worthless detritus out of our house, there will be a passive aggressive note about you co-signed by the chairman of our building.
3. Google Analytics: You think you're so clever but searching 'when can I burgle Kitschy Coo' shows up in my analytics and now I have your IP address so you're basically already in big trouble.
   
4. Two words: Friend Sarah. Not only is she a policeman with keys to our house and instructions to hang out here, our house is within her actual beat. She is so bad-ass that she already knows about your nefarious plans and has instigated a covert sting operation to catch you as soon as you are within 100m of our property.

Catch you on the other side...

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Girl's Gone Geeky

There are friend's of Friend Sarah visiting all the way from Canada and, as everyone knows, a friend of Friend Sarah is a friend of mine so I made a tunic for their daughter. The last time I made a tunic for this little girl she was in the throws of Princess Phase One, but I'm happy to report that now that she is seven the Princess Phase has burnt out and the girl's gone geeky.

So I fashioned one of my all-time-favourite fabrics into a flouncy tunic with polkadot waist shaping. I have to admit, tales of girls going geeky gives me Hope for my own girly-girl.... maybe the glasses will help?

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Belfast: The City of Broken Dreams

Pretending to sight-see

There was coffee, there was shopping, there was cider, there was food, there was an open fire, there was champagne, there was a shower without bystanders discussing my body, there was sleep, there were chick flicks. There were no children.

Not pictured: person with bad haircut

With hindsight, we did these things in the wrong order. Shopping first. I bought 14 pairs of tights from glorious Primark. I did not get a pair of feety PJs because Ruth and Sarah are no fun whatsoever. Let me repeat that: I did not buy the feety PJs I've been obsessing about for at least 15 months. Ruth is a very dignified person and as such I did not give her the hard sell. Friend Sarah, however, was teetering on the edge of feety PJ heaven. If only the shopping was preceded by this:


Friend Sarah does occasionally have good ideas, and Aspalls would fall in that category. Alas, had we partook and then shopped we would have spent the weekend in cow and tiger suits. The human brain cannot even cope with how euphoric this situation would have been. Instead:


I jest, obviously. Of course Sarah is still allowed in Belfast, and if not granted the keys to the city she at the very least deserves the keys to the Tayto Factory.

The weekend away: already a long distant memory.

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Warning: Not Suitable for Work. Unless you work in Belfast, then it *might* be.

Friend Sarah and I are off to Belfast tomorrow to visit the jointly-cherished Ruth. I have it on good authority that it's rude to visit a friend's new house without bringing a house-warming gift. Especially if the house is no longer new because you have been remiss in visiting. For two years. Better late than never, right? But what to bring...

I was first pointed in the direction of a slightly vulgar wall hanging by Millie, and I came so close to buying the one she has that says 'Feck It, Sure It's Grand' in the style of Keep Calm and Carry On. I wavered though, because that's just not Ruth. But what is? This:

Oh, how I laughed and laughed and laughed the first time I heard her say this. When googling it's entymology, apparently it's a Belfast thing. Have you ever heard a better phrase? Here's a tip from me to you: If you're having such a bad week that having a smear was one of the highlights, do something like this. I stayed up late on Wednesday, printing it over and over in different fonts. The only disappointment was that Steven never asked what they were for, because I was going to tell him I was going leafleting. Unfortunately, I can't have such joys in my house with an (almost) literate son. I told him it said, 'Welcome to Our House'.

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OMG YOU GUISE

Edinburgh's second coolest person

So on Friday night me and Friend Sarah wore our matching dresses and we were treated like celebrities and we didn't even need to do a choreographed dance or anything. That sentence is like two thirds true and one third lie.

Don't worry, I still have 12 inches of hair. I'm not sure where it is.

I was so distracted by our collective awesomeness (and also the awesomeness of Strawberry and Lime Cider) that I even forgot to try on Ruth's new glasses.

See? Nothing to worry about. The hair is back.

Just when I didn't think the 12 year old friendship experience couldn't get any better, it did. After posting our night out pics on Facebook, I only got commissioned by my friend Amber to make her a cowl dress. That's right, Amber. The original coordinating-outfit-friend from when we were twelve years old. I'm thinking we should totally put on our matching dresses and visit her brother, just like we did before. Except now he's not a day old infant, he's at university. And now I'm officially old.

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The Catch Your Death Cowl

As I mentioned yesterday, this week I attempted to make Friend Sarah recreate my 12 year old self's friendship experience. If you weren't friends with me as a 12 year old (and let's face it, most weren't), it meant dressing in either matching or coordinating outfits with your BFFs. On New Year's Day 1991, me and my friend Amber sported white t-shirts, black waistcoats, black cropped leggings and side ponytails to visit her new brother in hospital. I know, haters gonna hate. Although Friend Sarah suffers many indignities for being my friend, waistcoats and side ponytails would be pushing it. Probably.

The above cowl dress in a grey and red check is my newest dress. Obviously, due to current sinus-related maladies you're not going to get a modelled picture. If you've been watching The Walking Dead, picture this dresses on one of the zombies and that's pretty accurate. No, wait. Here is a modelled pic:

This is my hand heading up into town to meet Friend Sarah on Thursday night, when I got drenched by an Edinburgh monsoon and lo and behold- caught my death.

This is the dress I made Sarah. It's a rather nice marled double knit with a lovely drape.

Obviously she doesn't get a print or pattern lest she upstage me.

Addendum: It's definitely the pox.

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Why you should be my friend in real life. Or not.

My beloved friend, Ruth, is visiting Edinburgh this week from her native Northern Ireland and we'd have such fun hanging out. It's surprising I have any friends at all, because I'm always promising to make them stuff and never get around to it. But not this time!

I made Ruth a rather large make-up bag which will probably remain empty because she's so pretty she doesn't need make-up. She can instead fill it with Tayto's as people in Ireland are wont to do.

And a coordinating phone cosy. She does need that one, so she can call me all the time to discuss how much we miss each other. It's lined in flannel so everytime you put the phone in or out it gets a little clean-up.

And I also attempted to return to the good graces of Friend Sarah for not getting her a birthday present by making her a makeup bag too. Also superfluous. You know how everyone's mum tells them they don't need makeup to look good? Friend Sarah's mum was right.

And a phone cosy for her too!

And one for me, obviously. We meet up in town last night to celebrate our new make-up bags and phone cosies.

Ruth's husband should be a professional photographer. Look how he's centred that wine bottle right between my bosoms. Or maybe a paparazzi as the flash has made my shirt transparent.

This picture is scientific proof that my personal happiness is directional proportional to my proximity to Ruth. Do you know how you can tell that you have very, very good friends?

They indulge your fetish for trying on other peoples' glasses.

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New Kicks

These are Maia's new kicks. They're what I would consider 'acceptable pink', rather than bubblegum / candyfloss pink as she is wont. I bought them when she wasn't looking.


These are my new kicks. Not only are they the height of fashion and in no way the semblance of moonboots, but they have magical powers which will make me skinny. Every thing I do while wearing them is technically exercise. Ergo, I wore them to the pub with Friend Sarah on Friday. We were exercising.

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