GOOD RAGS, BAD RAGS AND RAGS IN BAGS

It’s rag time.  No, not like that.  It’s time to talk about rags – glad rags and sad rags.

Firstly the glad rags: one of the joys in my life at the moment is working from home. This meant that today the tv stayed on all day (ahem no it does not always stay on all day) – firstly the Krudd leadership shitstorm, which turned out not to be so shitty, then the Oscars LIVE.  So really it was all about the frocks as it is every year. God there were some bad decisions. Gwyneth got it wrong with the cape, JLo – no.  Meryl: unflattering oven bag.  Emma Stone and Michelle Williams, both in red, were gorgeous and looked so happy and under-tanned - yay! 

I’m convinced that the most beautifully dressed women there were dressed by Johanna Johnson.  I do know Johanna a little through my sister-in-law Zoe.  Although I’ve only actually met Johanna a few times, I feel as though I know her better than that.  Maybe it is by knowing her clothes? They are so exquisitely done and balanced and historical and quietly elegant.  And deeply sexy.  See more pictures of JJ's Oscar and post-Oscar party frocks: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Johanna-Johnson/103352579737095

BAD RAGS IN A BAG:

I tend not to throw away old worn bits of fabric or off cuts.  They either go into the laundry to be used for cleaning or into the giant fabric basket for the ‘one day’ quilt. If they’re felt scraps it doesn’t matter how tiny they are, they can and will be used for some kind of toy.  As a result there are bags within bags within bags of scraps.  It’s a pathology but I’ve always got the future in mind – the environment, the time in the future to sew more… But as a result the present storage is bursting at the seams.

 A few months ago Matt’s punching bag needed some attention. Yes we have a punching bag. It is surprisingly brilliant for exercise but it’d been left out in the rain and had become really heavy.  Clearly the stuffing had become waterlogged.  It’s a proper punching bag, bought from a sports store. It has a brand, but the stuffing wasn’t foam or padded wool.  It was made up of sodden wet rags.  Not just rags actually, but old jumpers, tops, trousers.  They’d been curled up and stuffed whole into the punching bag.  No-one even bothered to disguise them by ripping them into scraps.

The rags stank not just of damp but of dirty old clothes (which of course is what they were).  When they were spilled out on the courtyard they looked sad and disgusting. Who chose that cotton jumper for an eight year old girl? Could they ever have envisaged that they’d end up in a punching bag?

 Then again, all clothes become dust anyway.  What a downer.

 I'm working on a top for Matt's Sydney show at the moment.

A scarf has sold at Space Bar (quick, three left), giving me some $ to do something new with the scarves.