One of the things I love most about working with fabric: the infinite number of designs that can be put on it! Every designer has their own take; every culture has their own style. I've vented a few times before about the differences between "modern design" as a movement versus "modern design" as an aesthetic. The movement is one I love, but the design aesthetic is only one of several that I adore.

Hi, I need a name. (But not a home.)

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.

I've been doing some Serious Writing in the meantime but let me just tell you ... I've survived Germany and France, and am currently recovering from a minor gastrointestinal issue in Copenhagen. Due to the short length of my stay, and the fact that this bug thoroughly kicked my ass for 24h, I won't see as much of the city as I'd like.

However, I hit up Marimekko. Much evil was acquired.

To cap off last night: the sinking sickening feeling of knowing one of my fabrics really and truly wasn't working in my quilt pattern. Jacob helpfully pointed out last night that this is the risk of doing everything myself: you get to take the credit for everything that goes right, but you have to take the blame for everything that goes wrong, too.