Experiments in where to live #465

So the plan to get myself adopted failed. After the whole 'getting kicked out of one of the shittiest flats in bcn' incident:

a stay of almost a couple of months at the 'dads'' has provided a much needed regrouping and restabilising experience. Amazing food, lovely caring people, Mexican hot chocolate, my YouTube addiction fuelled and encouraged, on-tap help with my lesson plans, massive collection of DVD's and documentaries, wifi and so much feng-shui'd calmess that whole relaxing hours go by without me noticing their disappearance. I'm not sure what the legalities are regarding a 36 year old and a 29 year old adopting another 29 year old, but whatever the case, it would probably upset my mum, so I decided not to start the planned 'Dads please adopt me' campaign afterall.

So once again I am submerged in a state of flat hunting. This time I at least have a pretty damn good idea about what different areas, even different streets, are like. However, trying to figure out with what type of people and what kind of lifestyle you desire is a little trickier. Like many people my age I'm sure, I'm in a strange limbo of still sometimes feeling the unignorable urge to go out and get slaughtered in cool bars and talk random crap to friends and strangers, but I also sometimes just want to cook a nice dinner and have a relaxing, comfortable night in somewhere clean and relatively peaceful. It's an intriguing dichotomy that makes flat viewing even more difficult.

Nevertheless, flats still need to be viewed. Price is obviously a key factor. I'm either aiming at getting a double room somewhere nice and old with enough space for sewing, OR a smaller room somewhere possibly less nice but still old, and using the subsequent savings to share the rent on a small sewing workspace/studio with my mate Harriet.

Check it out, this is one of the many uninspiring and frankly depressing rooms that falls into my (limited) budget:

When Daddy Isi saw the image he declared it reminded him of Van Gogh's bedroom painting:

Similar furniture, carpet, colour scheme... There's some crazy inspiration derived for interior decorating going down over here in bcn! Excuse me, I must go flat (mental style) hunting.....

Experiments in how to live #3769

After what is a strong contender for the best weekend so far in bcn, today the inevitable happened: Monday rocked on up. With it brought the necessary evil of work. So if you will indulge me, I'd like to discuss my present take on that old chestnut.

When I first moved to bcn I spent a long time figuring out how I wanted to support myself. There were lists, diagrams, bar graphs and pie charts. Drawing upon lessons learnt from my varied, extensive and commitment-phobic employment history, I decided I would be happiest by cobbling together a collection of sources of income, rather just having one steady job. So I sorted it thus.

The most fixed element of my working scenerio is being a canguro (literally a 'kangroo', i.e. babysitter) for three families. Basically I get paid to hang out with kids and talk to them in English. As a result my colouring-in and plasticine skills are getting pretty strong! I also blag a bit of English teaching. And last but by no means least, I research fashion trends for a forecasting company based in NY. I'm their 'man' in bcn (except I do womenswear). It's very flexible and fits nicely around my other work, and general weekly whims and desires. It's ironic that someone who doesn't buy new clothes spends so much of her time in clothing stores and changing rooms! Here I am in my natural habitat:

Now, I could warble on about the down sides of my self-cultivated employment situation, but the main point is that I feel I've achieved the level of freedom I personally need for my mental health. And although it can get pretty tiring and a little lonely, flitting around the city as I do means I have a connection and relationship with the city that I think it would take office-bound peops a lot longer than four months to achieve (no offence office-bound peops). It provides me with the opportunity to make fascinating discoveries (e.g. I know where you can buy the TINIEST croissants possibly known to man) and provides constant visual stimulae that sometimes I like to record:

PLUS, when my sewing stuff arrives, the application of a little more self disaplin and time management should result in a whole lotta time for creating. That's it in a (chest)nutshell.

Back to School Uniforms for 29-year-olds

Jeez! I swear five minutes ago it was so hot I was having four showers a day and spending large chunks of the day in my pants. Now, it’s WELL autumn! Having got over the initial temperature change shock to the system, it’s actually quite exciting. Let me explain...

This time of year, I always find, is an appropriate time to get a year older. So I got on that last week and turned twenty nine. (How did THAT happen?!.) As with other (personally) significant occasions, I always see my birthday as an opportunity to take stock of where I am at, in terms of my life and goals, and to reassess, consolidate and push forward. Autumn has such a ‘back-to-school’ vibe, a real re-focus and knuckle down feel after the frivolity of summer. Plus it makes me want to buy a new pencil case and set square!

This year is no different, in fact maybe the above statements hold even more truth this time round. This summer I wound up in a new city (not to mention new country), one not particularly known for it’s lack of summer indulgence. I spent July, August and indeed most of September finding my feet, discovering Barcelona’s treasures, meeting heaps of new and mostly amazing people and generally attacking the experience I had set up for myself. Heady, if sweaty, times. October I spent working out how to survive and support myself, basically carving out a sustainable life here, and rounding up the month by having a thoroughly awesome birthweek (that’s how we roll round here).

Also, I have some pretty strong perceptions of what I want for myself and who I hope to be by the time I was thirty (who doesn’t?). At this point in time, although I feel I have laid some solid foundations, due to the breadth of what I hope to achieve combined with some unforeseen setbacks I have sustained, I feel pretty far away from those aims. I’ve got some work to do.

For me, a big part of how I feel is linked to how I present myself. I don’t see appearance and presentation of self, and creative and (I hesitate to use the word) professional success as independent spheres. Obviously, I understand this probably holds more truth for those in my chosen specialism.

So, let’s get on with the pretty pictures! I aim to create a more cohesive and vaguely more mature vibe. I reckon a shortcut to that could be to deploy a killer dress. Here's some fine examples I'm feelin' at the mo.....

Imagine this APC one with some red or grey opaque tights and slouchy boots. Hmmmm.. Nice little bow detail to offset the potentially stark overall feel, me thinks.

Such a violently strong option for day or night, I feel a bit weak. Should also receive a special award in the 'Nicest Sleeves Ever' catagory.

A vintage beauty. Frilly sleeves with matching hem ruffle? On paper this doesn't work, yet there is evidence to the contrary:

A strong contender for the nicest dress, if not garment, ever to appear on Burdastyle. Uber simple A-line with supremely interesting and perfectly executed bib detail. Good job I was sitting down when I first saw it. (Made by ultra-talented London based Burdatyle member Christine).

So there you have it peops. Inspiring dresses to make me inspired to make dresses in which to feel inspired, maybe to make dresses!

Sew Specific

Apologies to non-sewing peops. Initially this post may appear a little dry, but hang in there, there is always the possibility I may make an interesting, more generally applicable, point. No promises mind, so if there isn’t, don’t go asking for your money back!

K. Now I know I have mentioned Simplicity Built By You sewing patterns before (here and here), and I’m sure this won’t be the last time (I’m particularly sure because I have in my possession a trouser pattern of theirs that I plan to attack when back in the Motherland over Christmas). But I feel the need to break it down. The NY based clothing brand Built By Wendy , create (in my opinion) amazing, wearable (I’d imagine) and infinitely inspirational garments. I visited a Built By Wendy store in LA last Autumn (or should that be Fall) and saw a collection in the flesh. For me, it was like a combination of making a holy pilgrimage and seeing the tooth fairy! Anyway, it was so exciting to see home sewing patterns on sale in a cool, dare I say trendy, boutique. Normally such boutiques, Pixie Market (incidentally on the very same street as the Built By Wendy shop in LA) being another example, offer to me the emotionally dichotomic combination of massive inspiration, envy and insatiable temptation. Inspiration, because often the garments reveal so many details and ideas to fuel my own creations, envy because I don’t have the talent to design pieces of such perfection of my own bat, and insatiable temptation because I am unable to purchase garments due to my pledge, though realistically they would be out of my budget anyway. Really, for me, such retail experiences are very draining!

So for Wendy Mullin, the creator and designer of Built by Wendy, to have the selflessness to create this range of patterns, and the amazing sewing book Sew U, both to encourage the art of home sewing, is such a fantastic thing. I salute her.

BTW, did I ever mention that I actually have the Sew U book? It’s the kind of thing that I would, and for some time did, deeply desire, but perversely could never justify treating myself to. Then through the most bizarre set of occurrences involving an elderly ex-seamstress and pattern cutting tutor who was a friend of my ex-boyfriends nan having a massive clearout, a pristine copy became mine (along with the most epic, largely vintage, button stash you have ever seen, but that’s another story). I was so excited, I was very nearly sick. There is a stretch fabric version out now that is well on my ‘wants’ list.

The patterns that have been published are from actual Built By Wendy collections. For example, this hardy perennial from my sewing pattern archive was actually part of the Spring 2004 collection. This is one of the garments I created from this pattern (say hello to Daddy Edwards):

And these are two of my favourite creations made by someone else (in this case, both by the awesome Chicago based seamstress Snaggletooth):

What all this shows is that, ultimately, Wendy Mullin is intelligent. She knows her customer base, and is well aware that no one who is actually going to buy this garment would say ‘You know what? I don’t think I’ll bother, I’ll save my cash by buying the pattern and making my own’. Also she knows her industry well enough to be aware that if a commercial interest was set on ripping off her styles, they would either send in ‘researchers’ into the stores to photograph the garments, often covertly, or they would purchase one garment and send it off to be deconstructed and copied. From first hand experience, I know this happens frequently. In a previous employment role, I have personally purchased garments for the purpose of sending them off to be copied. And damn, at this very moment I’m a ‘researcher’ myself! Wow, that felt a bit confessional. The justification for my actions will have to wait for another post. Right now there are sewing plans to form.......

Borne (it's so) yesterday

So, through an unforseen set of circumstances I had to leave the Borne. Whatever, that flat was for geeks anyway. Now I'm back staying with the Dads in Poble Sec. And you know what that means peops....

CANDELA!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Can you believe it?! My first morning waking up back in Poble Sec, I go for breakfast in the coffee shop where I first witnessed her, and BAM! I am blessed with a sighting! It could be interpreted (and I have done as such) that it is a sign that, no matter what wierdness goes down, amazingness is never far away.

Check the batwing cropped jacket. And, damn, she knows red is so right now. I have to admit, I didn't even try to disguise taking this photo. I guess she is just so used to being papped for style magazines and the like, she's all 'Another day, another pap'. Oh, and FYI, I watched her moves carefully, she put all the butter and jam available on her toast. Proof that diets are a waste of time.

So after the sighting I needed to calm down, so me and my mate Anna went over the other side of the square for another coffee. Oh, and that turned out to be pretty amazing as well (be sure not to miss Anna's beautiful and heartbreakingly expensive new top, kind of Marc Jacobs-esque 70's, with 40's referencing, in my opinion):

The cafe was super beautiful, and the morning autumn sunshine made it more so.

It reminded me of the cafe in that film Amelie. It had antiquey mis-matched chairs (street furniture?) with marble tables, colourful stained glass, aqua tiles, random art and a massive mirror above the bar.

I love living somewhere where enjoying an extended breakfast with a friend in interesting and often beautiful surroundings is seen as perfectly normal behaviour, and not in anyway the actions of some layabout, work-shy person (not that I'm necessarily claiming not to be those things as well). I'm not UK bashing, believe me, I could list numerous less pleasant sides to life here, but this pleasure is something that is particularly important to me. You could live in the most amazing place in the world, but if you aren't able to absorb it and reflect upon it from time to time, then what's the point? For me, surroundings are so important, they feed me in so many ways. I'm lucky that I can feel that, even whilst being homeless and skint.

Street life, it's the only life I know

Stop me if I’ve told you this, but the best thing (for me) about living in Barcelona is the ‘free furniture days’. I fear that is not the official term, I’m not sure there is an official term.

Nevertheless, it is an amazingly exciting thing. Let me bring you up to speed peops.

Every area has a day of the week when you can put out on the street any unwanted/broken pieces or furniture, or indeed anything else, for the council to come and collect. Naturally the more thrifty individuals choose these days to go ‘stuff-hunting’. I am firmly one such individual. In fact, when my flatmate told me of this phenomena, I was nearly sick and went straight out, literally eight hours too early (10pm is the optimum hour in my hood) , on the off chance that the early bird does indeed catch the worm. It didn’t. But I have honed the art, and in the style of Yardsale Bloodbath, here are some of my beauts.

A beautiful bird cage with heart motif. (Tiago quote: ‘Think of all the dead birds that once lived in there.)

Hand-painted frame with ‘gold’ leaf inlay. (I’m pretty convinced some Catalan girl was trying to have to it off me the night I found it, but I refused to let go of it whilst she was admiring it. You got to watch out for that.)

Shop display torso. (There was actually about twelve and I picked them all up screaming ‘They’re mine!’, until Harriet convinced me that one was probably enough. The jury’s still out on that.)

Three-quarters empty church candles. (These can be found by the box load round the back of the Cathedral on Thursday evenings. Damn it! I’ve spilled the beans, now everyone will be there. Tiago quote: ‘That’s other peoples’ prayers and wishes’, my quote ‘Yeah Tiago, did I mention they were free?’.)

Full length bevelled mirror. (Found at the same time as another more antiquey mirror for the bathroom, but the bathroom is too skanky for you to see. That’s the thing about mirrors, they reflect stuff.)

THE SEWING STASH. That’s right people, feast your eyes. And for the record, those reels of thread are just a fraction of what I picked up that night, which in turn was just a fraction of what was in the box. The little red things are size tabs. I have to be honest, the sewing machine is broken, but the high we achieved when we found it well out did the disapointment in discovering it didn’t work. I don’t remember EVER being that exicted in my whole life. Including the time when my dad told me we were going to a panto JUST AFTER seeing a panto piece on Blue Peter. Anyway, I’m hanging onto the machine in case I meet someone who can fix it. Maybe I’ll find one on the street!

The mini-stash of buttons and hook and eyes were found in Gotico one day when I was feeling pretty down. Like Barcelona gave me a little gift and was saying ‘Cheer up love’. Thanks Barcelona, I have.

Detections for our imminent viewing pleasure

My mother, whom, it could be argued, I unofficially employ as a cultural correspondent, keeping an eye out for interesting things whilst my attention is elsewhere, is pretty-bloody-awesome. She has just informed me of a new Coen Brothers film shortly to be released called Burn After Reading. So highly tuned are her skills, that she is able to acquire, assimilate and report such exciting and socially relevant news without even removing her fluffy slippers, and can do so on the way to putting the kettle on. Undeniably strong skills indeed. Remind me to give her a raise.

Check the poster above. How nice is that!? Viewing the artwork only further ignited my excitement. But wait.......! Those colours, that font, the mysterious silhouette. Have we not seen this somewhere before? Perhaps if we were cast our minds back into the graphic design history of the late 20th century........ Ta da!

I'm sure the graphic designer who created the Burn After Reading poster was creating a deliberate reference, and subsequently I can hardly feel smug for making the connection. Next time you see me however, ask me to tell you the true story about when Jimmy Stewart was in the back of my Grandad's taxi.... It's a good one.