It’s weird to say that you can walk into fabric stores – which are, by definition, riots of color and print – and feel a little bored, but I’ve been struggling with that in the past year or so as I’ve become more familiar with What’s Out There. There aren’t that many manufacturers of quilting fabric, and there’s a strong faddish element to what’s in / out / hot / not at any point in time.
As I tidied up the entry for Fuego, since I put it in the mail today, I looked over the quilt list for the year and was a little disheartened, because I felt like I haven’t accomplished much this year. It’s also entirely possible that I’m an idiot.
The story: I was fabric-hunting in the Petticoat Lane district in London, where there’s a street of nothing but African fabric shops one after another, selling 6-yard lengths of what’s variably called “dutch wax fabric,” “african wax fabric,” etc. The marketplace looks like this, with racks and racks of clothing available for sale out in the street, and wax fabric storefronts on both sides of the street:
While I was working on Sea & Sky, I decided I’d cheat and re-use the pattern (“New Wave”) a second time because it was quick, easy, and chews through large-scale prints like a hot knife through butter. Since the color scheme for that quilt was light, bright, and warm-toned, I wondered what I could do if I started pulling out fabrics with muted grey or brown tones.
It is axiomatic: every workplace that is partially virtual, and dependent on IRC or chat for department communication, must have at least one unofficial back channel. I, of course, participate in a few of those, and there’s one in particular where we have a rule about not talking about work. (Except, of course, when we do.)