Crafty Bitch

Don't you hate it when you're really into something obscure, and at first it's really daggy, but you can enjoy the ironic appeal, and then someone mentions it in Frankie magazine and it gives you an air of mystique and genuine coolness, and then someone else mentions it in Better Homes and Gardens, and suddenly everyone is doing it, and doing it poorly, and then Lincraft brings out a kit to make it possible for even people with no arms to do it, and then even more people are doing it, and what's more, some of the more creative ones work out that they can improve on their product by sticking swarovski crystals on it or making a tiny version in polymer clay that they can use to jazz up their husband's dongle?

Well, I have never known that self-satisfied rage.  I have always latched onto trends as they make their descent into the remedial sandpit of popular crafts: I am only now turning my mind to learning how to knit, I got into steampunk long after everyone knew what it was, and only started buying my t-shirts from Threadless when I saw a friend's mother wearing one.

And I'm just as late to leave a dying craft.  When the scrapbookers are fleeing to the safety of screenprinting tea-towels, I'll be left behind with the Large-toothed Medicated Ladies Who Never Blink while we decoupage the deckchairs with cut-up Christmas cards.

Lucky, then, that someone in this house has got a finger on the crafty pulse.  Or a paw.

I can happily report that Ellen is the ONLY dog at school with a funky patchwork coat.

And she totally rocks it.

You just watch, people.  Everyone will be wearing them next month.

Or were they all wearing them last year?


EDIT: Having re-read this, I've realised it might give the impression that I made this magnificent coat.  I did not.  I paid $10 for it.  Which is far more sensible than spending a month cussing over fat quarters.