Bambi Is Here Now

(the blue binding in the photo is the right colour, but the oranges above are too bright)

I finally finished my Bambi Rug (last night)! Yes, after 6 months (although a lot of that time I didn't touch it excepting at the weekends, so it could have been quicker).

We (the One True and I) went on an emergency trip to Kazari in Prahran last Saturday, because, even though I have as much fabric as they do, I didn't have anything that looked right for the rug binding. Nothing! And, being silks and cottons (and nylons), I wasn't going to use wool (which I could dye the right colour but which wouldn't look right, texture-wise).

I managed to find (within the first minute) the perfect colour and a pleasing texture to use. An old kimono, unlined, $20. You can see it in this awfully blurred and temporary photo (which shows the colour well, nonetheless). It's fluffy because I cut off-grain and the back-colour shows at the edges (an old shell-pinky shade). Noice.

I also had to have a $10 length of gorgeous, purple, silk-satin damask (amazing colour), and... a shell thingy and a fabulous ceramic bird in jade green. While I was choosing the fabric (and I looked at every roll of cloth in the shop, but came back to the first choice) my Fella went to the art supply shop and spent loads of money. Loads. So, our $20 ended up being nearly $300. Sooo naughty.

But we don't care.

Bambi's now in pride of place in front of the chaise, looking the wrong size but nearby enough, for the moment, to gaze upon all of those beautiful mostly vintage silks.

This Is So Nice To Work On, Out On The Verandah

Well, I am still thinking of Magdalena Briner Eby,ish... though not trying to copy her so much as starting with her work in mind. She had a fantastic, organic style, and this rug has been growing too, rather than following any pre-known or colour plan. I like to begin with the Must Use fabrics or Definitely Will Include colours, and then follow their lead.

As usual, in so doing, I make work for myself. But the idea of using old clothes and fabrics dictates the colours and you can't always know what works, in advance. As opposed to dyeing woollen cloths to suit, that is (where you obviously have a plan).

I've really made inroads into my (often) Japanese silk and my (unwearable) vintage clothes stashes! It feels at once wasteful and the exact opposite. You can't see the details of prints etc., but the lusciousness abides! And I don't do so much embroidery these days so it's just sitting there accusing me.

Scribbles become intelligible if you Add Too Many!

These are just crummy 'phone shots. My camera had Alzheimer's. So... the colours aren't good in this overall shot. Probably, the first photo is most accurate.

Not So Nylon Now

The background is following a mood of Magdalena Briny Eby, sort of. I don't have a plan so much as am working abstractedly. Originally I thought I'd use all blues, then all drabs, but now the combo of shades and colour is melding the dear little deer into the image, rather than having it too prominent. I think the (wide) border will be striped, fanning outwards? Hmmm... not sure yet.

The beginning of the rug was Grandma's clothes, but the fabrics I've accumulated over many embroidering years are Vast and Silken, so they come into it when the colour is right. It's nice to work with silks too.

I almost 100% refuse to buy synthetics, but sometimes there's bling that wants in.

I've been cutting my strips off grain. Not particularly on the bias, just enough to avoid fraying. Or, cutting wide and folding the raw edges into the centre. I have an iron set up next to my table. The more I do, the less I use the iron though, and just hold it in. I've never really been terribly fond of 'rows' of loops, so try to twist them a bit... it depends. The ironed strips are very uniform as loops you see.
A few of the silks I've had to hold two strips (worms) as they haven't been thick enough to stay.
I'm really enjoying this rug... do I say that every time? This feels more me than the last (fox seat cover) and I'm learning loads. It's harder on the hands to use regular fabric... wool is so gentle, but worth the effort! I've used an old skirt of mine that I wore to death and fading. It's a nice pink and now it's all gone and no longer a burden (burden as in, sitting in my stash wanting to be used). I LOVE using up my fabric! My lifetime goal is to use all of my fabric.

Grandma's Nylon Bambi Rug (Name In Progress)

Many years ago when my Grandma died (1993), I saved most of her clothes to use for crafts.

She had a heap of overcoats and loads of ‘Pure Nylon’ tops and pant suits, many of which were paisley and bright. Quite lairy was my old Grandma. Born in 1909, she found her heels (but not her temperament) in the 60’s. Well, with the fabrics and ‘kitsch’ of the era. I have lots of her old bric-a-brac and have added much of my own now too. What was once my Grandma’s style is now my style too. I have a collection of little porcelain fawns and Bambi’s, for example, which is a definite a Grandma influence.

I madeWagga’s out of Grandma’s coats, and still use remnants in all sorts of things: blankets, pot-holders and rugs.

When I first collected the nylons, I imagined using them in hooked rugs, what else after all? They don’t feel so nice to wear and can get a bit smelly, ew. I had bought, or rather borrowed Joan Mortimer’s fabulous book on Rug Hooking, so here was reason enough to save these quite lovely fabrics and save the memories that went with them.

Years went by. I made my ‘Grandma Curtains’ with some, embroidering notes and letters and recipes from my childhood and my life with Grandma and Mum. We three sewers. These adorn my sewing room, appropriately.

But this week, after having a bundle of colours made up for the last year, I started my Grandma’s Bambi rug (name in progress). It’s been sitting in the back of my mind for so long! As ideas do. All I want to do now is work on the rug, even though I really have no place for it in my tiny little house. Let alone anywhere for a pink deer rug! (I can hear your comments about that from here, and I am going ahead so you see, I agree).

Anyhow, the main reason I wanted to write about this is that I feel the intimacy of my Grandma so very much, doing this. Grandma was a quick sewer. Always eager to try something new and get on with it. She used pinking shears rather than zig-zag on the seams (pre overlocker days). I’m not like that. I’m fastidious, but have otherwise almost completely morphed her into myself.

As I pull apart these nylon clothes, I see her quick and ‘strong-but-not- blind’ hemming and remember when I got her to make my end-of-year dress for dressmaker’s college (myself a lazy 16 year old) and lost marks for the pragmatic but not saleable, invisible hem. And last night as I unpicked another outfit, I discovered Grandma’s pencil marks for her darts. It brought a tear to my eye and a pang of loneliness for her and for my Mum. We three sewers who shared so much.

Only I, remaining, know these things about my Grandma. When I look inside these old clothes, I know instantly if she made it and that makes me smile. I still miss her terribly even after this time, but she is hooked into posterity with this very bright, pink, maybe a little bit kitsch, Bambi rug.

Not sure about the background... scenery? Grass and sky? We'll see.