New Year, New Office!

 Support British Makers, Wednesday March  Comments Off on New Year, New Office!
Jan 112015
 

It was a bit of a surprise, to say the least, to get a phone call on Tuesday 6th January, to tell me that I could now have the keys to the office I’d been promised in another building, away from the delicious but unwelcome smell from the Thai takeaway next door to the current one.  I picked the keys up later that afternoon and poked my head briefly in the door of the new office, seeing it empty for the first time.  Unfortunately, I didn’t take in the state of the carpet (you don’t want to know, and this morning I found a nice lump of chewing gum hidden underneath the phone on the carpet) or the state of the walls.  (Remember when Blu Tak was heralded as being the best thing since sliced bread because it didn’t damage walls?  Well, that was a whopping great fib!)  I was shown the kitchen (miles away from the office and with two flights of stairs in between), and a chap who introduced himself as the “random bloke who lurks in the kitchen”.  At this point, I thought that maybe it would be okay.  Neighbours with a sense of humour are a good thing.

On Friday, I took the first, largely symbolic rolls of fabric and a pattern folder to the new office, along with my Bernina and tailoring stuff.  Looking round the office properly for the first time, I noted the state of it (oh dear), checked that I could reach the bird table from the window (bird food will be purchased forthwith) and checked out the alarm system.  The office is older but bigger and there are more people in the building.  So far, the natives seem friendly.

Two rolls of fabric plus a folder and a sewing machine

The first rolls of fabric arrive, along with a pattern and sewing machine.

On Saturday morning, Mr March and I started the move in earnest.  There’s so much to move!  Still!  We haven’t moved all the big, heavy stuff yet; we have that joy to come today.  And then we can decide whether or not a cutting/worktable can be constructed.  At the moment, we’re thinking that the room is still too small, although the possibility of braked castors may make it possible.  It would make life a lot easier to be able to cut at a comfortable height and also save trying to persuade the Council to replace the floorcovering.

So far, we have the petticoat rail installed, the shelving unit moved and an identical new one purchased and installed alongside it.  Already, things are looking up.  Shelving!  Boxes on shelves!  Tidy(ish)!

Bookcase with assorted boxes and rubbish

Old shelves…

Bookcase with assorted boxes and containers

New shelves…

Clothing rail with assorted garments hanging.

Panic not! The petticoats are fine!

Just don’t look at the other end of the office…

Office with stuff everywhere

Oh dear…

You looked, didn’t you?  Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

It will be fine, though.  It will.  Mr March and I will shift rest of the equipment and hopefully by Monday I’ll be ready to have the phone line switched over.  The number isn’t changing and the change will be instantaneous, apparently, once the word is given.  It’s quite exciting!  New address is on the contact page already.  It’s not much different from the old address; same park, different building.

Watch this space…

Jun 292014
 

You know that nice theory where everyone is nice to everyone regardless of race, colour, creed, orientation, shoe size?  The one that would make our world a very different – much nicer place – if everybody truly subscribed to it?  Well, it’s another of the bees in my bonnet.  (Yes, there are quite a few of them!)

A bee on a lavender spike

 

And people who don’t subscribe to it really rattle my cage. Like those ‘ladies’ who work in my building who go all quiet and refuse to acknowledge my cheery greeting but scuttle away and then giggle behind their hands like school children.  Well, like school children are actually taught not to do.   And I know why they do it;  it’s because I look very different both from them and what they would consider normal.  I dress in retro-style clothing, often with fluffy petticoats and to them that’s out of their comfort zone.  So they treat me like I’m an alien.  Which, in these days of multi-cultural society, isn’t really acceptable, is it?  I could understand them taking evasive action if I was drunk or dirty and smelled bad.  I’m none of these things.  (At least, not very often!)  I could even understand it if I had some dreadful deformity, like elephantiasis, as people often just don’t know how to react or what to say so as not to cause offence and therefore flee in order to get out of an uncomfortable situation.  But I’m a perfectly ordinary woman, in the same age group as them.  Nothing about me is particularly remarkable.  I’m pretty small and insignificant.  Hell, I’m five foot one and a tealeaf (that tealeaf is very important to a pixie) and 46 years old – that makes me so boring that I’m practically invisible!  Maybe they just don’t see me?  But no, they see me alright.  They see me smile and they hear me speak to them.  They just choose not to respond to me but to treat me with derision and/or contempt.

Of course, I consider myself lucky that this is all they do. I’m not on the receiving end of the horrendous abuse that caused the death of the beautiful Sophie Lancaster, who was basically kicked and stamped to death in a public park for dressing like a goth.  It’s okay, I’m an adult and I’m big enough and ugly enough to cope with other adults who really should grow up. And, if we’re being honest, should try dressing a little better then they currently do, especially in a professional/office work environment.  (Don’t get me started on their ‘fashion choices’!)  But the irony of the situation? Those ladies work for an organisation that works for and with adults with learning disabilities.  People who often look different from the ‘norm’.  And one of the main things they spout about on their website is equality.  Next time I find I’ve inadvertently cornered them in the kitchen, I may well ask about their organisation and its equality policy.  That should be fun…

But please don’t think that their behaviour is the norm because, happily, it is not.  The vast majority of people that I encounter – and most of my customers say the same – are highly complimentary.  I’ve lost count of the times people have come up to me in the street, the supermarket, all over the place, to say, “You look fantastic!” and other things of that ilk.  Dressing the way I do is usually appreciated – and not just by old men!  So many people say, “I wish I had the courage to dress like you,” and “We really should make more of an effort.”  Yes.  Make that effort.  In my book, it’s all part of courtesy to others and making the world a nicer place and that, I think, is really quite important.  Along with responding to a cheery greeting and not acting like a schoolgirl bully.

Wear that frock, hold your head high and make the world a nicer place.

Is this thing on…?

 Wednesday March  Comments Off on Is this thing on…?
Feb 142014
 

*tap tap tap*

It’s all a bit worrisome, this website malarky.  Not something in my comfort zone.  You can, and should, expect many breaks in service while I put my head under the sofa cushions to block out the modern world for a bit.  Or go in search of gin to help with that aim.  I find gin to be very effective…

So, here I am having a little play with a WordPress website thingy.  Apparently, “blogging is the way to go and people will like [my] witterings”.  It has been suggested that people may even snort their gin over their screens when they read said witterings.  I’m not sure I approve of that, although have to admit that it’s not an uncommon scenario here at Wednesday HQ when something tickles my fancy.  I may be a Grumpy Old Trad Hag but even GOTHs have a sense of humour.  Somewhere.  Mine is usually clad in well-cut black and sniggering at something that isn’t necessarily funny or the least bit politically correct.  You will need to accept this if you choose to stick around.

As well as gin and cowardice breaks, you should also expect a lot of stuff about frocks.  Mostly mine, obviously, but others will no doubt feature, along with ramblings about shoes, make-up, dogs, cats, chickens, the utter madness of the world today and my fixation with fixing the planet’s problems starting in our own backyard.  Globalisation, industrialisation and supermarkets are likely to come under fire.  My loathing of exploitation of resources (both natural and human) in the cause of greed and much cheapness will be abundantly clear.  I refuse to sacrifice my principles at the altar of Mammon.  So there.  (Yah, boo, sucks and bagsy.)

Come along for the ride, if you’d like to.  There will be frocks and gin.  And if you should decide you are unable to live without one (or more) of my frocks, there will be a way to contact me and organise the commission and delivery of such.  Just don’t ask me how at the moment.  Unless you leave a comment.  Ooh, yes, there’s an idea!  Do leave a comment!  Leave a comment anyway!  That’ll make me feel a little less like I’m talking to myself…