My Studio

The headline is a bit of a joke. I've been looking at other blogs with pictures of cute little cabins in the backyard, full of windows and light with ivy climbing the sides, where the artist can be an artiste. What I have here is a corner in the basement with a few shelves and a card table. But, on the plus side, the basement is three-fourths finished, a project we started and abandoned more than a year ago (and, if I had to bet, one that will remain undone until some time far in the future when we sell the house).

My basement also has a number of windows and a rarely used air hockey table that I can spread things out on (when I was growing up, it was a rarely used pool table; every basement needs something like it). So I can't complain. I don't imagine I'll ever get a little freestanding studio of my own, but if I can train my kids not to set their Nintendo controllers down in the middle of my work bench, at least I'll have my own little corner.

....And, on an unrelated note, here's a picture of a new necklace I finished this week. Why not?

Bloggers block (and other ramblings)

I think I'm getting worse at blogging instead of better. I started out with ideas and energy--what happened? Now I look at my last post and realize it's been a few days and think, aagh! What crap can I put up quickly?

In that vein: Here's a couple of necklaces I recently listed in my Etsy shop. More steampunk, yes, and fun to do, although I find myself in my basement sawing the pointy pieces off old clock parts, wondering if there's an easier way and also wondering why my children are so spoiled (or busy) that they turned down my offer to pay them to help (maybe this summer).

Recently someone on Etsy had a hilarious treasury (collection of artwork) saying that steampunk had jumped the shark, but given that most of the people you talk to are still unclear what it is, if they've even heard of it at all, I think we have a bit of time left before this goes the way of 70s shoulderpads. I figure I live in the Midwest, where people still wear Crocs. It takes a long time for styles to get here, even longer for them to go out of fashion.

Besides, as far as I can tell, it's alive and well. Witness the recent article in the NY Times, and now Etsy has a steampunk street team--a group of people who get together to promote a particular style or product. It's just now starting to get under way, but already has a blog and plans for a contest. (I'll have more on this later.) The more I see and read, the more fascinating the style is.

If nothing else, it gives me something to blog about.

The substitute teacher

Today I feel like the substitute teacher who is a little lazy and a little overwhelmed, so she puts on a video and doesn't even mind if you fall asleep during it.

Today, class, I'm going to show you a few of my favorite photos that I've taken lately.

First, the pink dogwood blooming in my back yard.

Next, a few new buffed celluloid buttons. Note that the ones on the left and right in the top row look like little logs. How weird is that.

Finally, a new postcard in my shop. This one dates to about 1910 and is illustrated by Frank Reynolds. It's titled "Racing to Supper."

OK, class dismissed.

Moesewco's That Girl Hat

Can't you just picture Marlo Thomas wearing this with a little mini-dress and colored stockings? Or maybe Mary Tyler Moore, throwing it up into the air?

Emily of Moesewco has done it again. Her lovely little mod cloche, in a bright cherry red, features one of my funkiest little pins--a mixture of vintage buttons in chocolate brown, pink swirl, and red bakelite ball.

Emily's hats are entirely hand made--blocked using vintage wooden hat blocks and stitched by hand. So it's a good match for my vintage buttons, which hail from an era before mass production. I love seeing how artisans can take the styles and processes of the past and update them for today.

My new necklace

I just finished a steampunk necklace on commission, and now I'm going to keep it. Sorry, Charmaine, hate to break it to you this way, but I like it too much to give it up (let's see if she can track me down).

Charmaine, aka High Desert Diva, sent me some of her grandmother's Victorian buttons, including a beautiful large black mourning button with crepe and beads. She also sent a box full of clock parts, and using some of those and some of my own, I put together a design for her to approve. The finished piece, above, is pretty much the same, with extra reinforcement in the back and a black leather cord.

It's going to look so good on me.

The Dolly Parton train wreck brooch

I knew it wasn't a good idea when I made this brooch--I couldn't imagine anyone actually pinning it to their chest. But just think: some stylish woman in some distant time (probably the 1940s) actually wore this hooter on a coat or dress. I would imagine that men couldn't keep their eyes off her!

Anyway, I love this little button, and I couldn't resist making the brooch, but I haven't had the nerve to put it up for sale yet. (I should mention that it's enormous--almost 2 1/2 inches wide and 1 inch deep.) I'd be interested to know whether my assumption is correct--that it's more fun to look at than to wear--or if someone could actually envision the day they would put this on and go out to meet the world.

On an unrelated note: There's an interview of me this week on the Etsy Vintage blog, featuring a few of my less bizarre creations. Check it out.

Celluloid buttons in black and cream

I just got in this exciting batch of celluloid buttons--this is about half of them, but some of the more interesting. My kids of course think I'm nuts for getting into this stuff, but look at them! Some are beautiful, some are totally hilarious. I've already decided on one combination for making a button pin (the modern-looking zig zag button near the top left, placed on top of a black button with a beautiful border). What I haven't decided is whether to sell it or not--may need to keep it for myself this time. The others I'll take my time with.

Now, does this remind anybody of the I Spy books? You have to have kids to know them, but I love them too--it's like looking through an antique shop. OK, find the button that's shaped like penne pasta. Now find the one that looks like a pause button on your DVD player.

Anatomy of a Steampunk Alchemy

Yesterday I finished up my first commission for an Etsy customer, through a new (or resurrected function) called Alchemy that allows sellers to bid on requests for handmade items. In this case, a steampunk necklace. My particular take on it incorporated a beautiful vintage button.

Here's what I started with: my buttons (yes, there must be a better way to organize) and a pile of watch and clock parts.



I segregated a number of pieces to play around with, and came up with a configuration I liked. The picture on the right shows the pieces just arranged together--no gluing yet. I uploaded this for the client to approve. (I don't think this step is strictly called for in the rules, but it seems like a good idea to me.)



Well, she loved it, so I finished off the piece (lots of stinky glue) and attached the leather cord. This took several days because of all the parts involved (eight different clock parts, plus I added an extra, thin button on the back of the celluloid one for stability). Et voila! I still need to clean it up a little, and Monday it ships.


I love this new feature on Etsy. It gives people a chance to get noticed whose shops otherwise might not be found; it inspired me to try something a little bigger and wilder than I might have otherwise (and this necklace looks pretty awesome on). And it allows people to purchase exactly what they want (we hope).

Seller's remorse

Everyone who's ever bought a swimsuit or an American car knows the feeling of buyer's remorse. Lately, though, I've run across its opposite: seller's remorse.

Here's a little dog I shipped off yesterday--glad to have the sale, of course, but as I bubble wrapped him him, I remembered buying him, more than 15 years ago, in a little place called the In and Out Shop that was simply crammed with junk like this (if it was still open, I'd make a fortune). I felt kind of sad to see him go, but he spent the past ten years in a box in the basement, so I must not have needed him that badly.

I've had similar bittersweet reactions when I've sold my jewelry, even though, for God's sake, I'm making it to sell! Here's one of the brooches I made out of antique buttons, and the first sale from my Etsy shop. I was thrilled with the sale, a week or so after I opened shop, but so sad to see this button go, with its fun textures and buttery yellow.

This reluctance to let go of things is not peculiar to Americans, but we undoubtedly suffer from it more than many nations. Our closets are crammed, our basements stacked, and if we do manage to let go of anything, it is with some regret. The upside of this anal retentive impulse is that I have boxes and boxes of old junk that may turn out to be craft worthy. The downside is that I have boxes and boxes of old junk.

An Etsy collaboration

This beautiful hat reminds me of a bygone era, of Barbara Stanwyck and dames who didn't take no guff. It was hand blocked by Emily of Moesewco, an Etsy shop that specializes in hats and embroidered goodies. Emily's hats are made entirely by hand, finished to the last detail, and in this case that included a pin by Callooh Callay!

Emily purchased one of my favorite pins to adorn this beauty, a popular item in my shop and one that I really hated to let go (as sometimes happens). It's made of three vintage buttons, a dark, mottled brown base with scalloped edges; a lovely light mauve button with a raised, swirled design; and a mother of pearl in the midddle.

Visits moesewco's Etsy site for a closer look at this hat and others, and visit their website, Discriminating Weirdos, for a fascinating look at the hat blocks Emily uses (and the ones she covets).

Buttons, buttons

I've never been a big collector, not since I was eleven and had a herd of ceramic horses, and I've never been inordinately obsessed with buttons. But now my work area overfloweth and I have to admit they're pretty cool.

I think my favorite is celluloid. This was one of the earliest plastics, later abandoned because it was found to be unstable. Millions of buttons from the 30s and 40s are available today, in all shapes, colors, and sizes. Here's a picture of some of my current beauties:




These celluloid buttons include bubbletops (on the top row), a tight top (far left), and three wafer buttons. The far right one is a layered and carved wafer, one of my favorites types. The bright blue one is called a buffed celluloid (not sure if you can tell in this photo). Bubble tops and tight tops all have metal backings; the difference is in how close the celluloid is to the metal.

Now here's what some of them look like when they're made into jewelry:




On the left is a bubble top, paired with a chunky lucite button (a later plastic). You can really see the depth on this one. To the right of that is a layered wafer, carved to reveal the different colors underneath (the button on top is, I believe, a Victorian cut steel). Finally, below is a pressed wafer button (this one is topped by a carved vegetable ivory button and mother of pearl).