From Somewhere Else...
From Somewhere Else...
Dispatches from a (probably) haunted house and also some news!
This digest will start with a little bit of writing about where I am right now and will be followed by some updates, announcements, and other interesting bits. I hope you can persevere and have a look at everything, but as always please don’t feel obligated! I wanted to start with this piece of writing though because it sets the sort of bizarre tone for this one!
Ps it was my birthday on Thursday so if you want to be extra generous and gifty this week- I will include a link to my pattern store below! Feel free to make liberal use of the discount codes :)
I’m writing to you from someplace else. My dirty laptop- one corner balanced on a pad of yellowing Camp David notepaper for stability- sits comically small on a vast dark wood desk. The desk is smooth and warped with age. Thick, unassuming boards sit on top of sturdy, intricately carved legs. Realistically, this could be the desk of the person who discovered the first subatomic particles and I don’t quite know how to reckon with this. Colonial artefacts look at me uncomfortably, displayed beside early editions of Darwin and Dickens. The patriarch of the family looks at them in turn, painted in profile in dark oils.
I don’t quite know how I’ve accidentally landed in this place, a summer home seeped in the ancestral wealth of Sir J. J. Thomson. Of course it gives me the ick, of course it does, but I can’t help but give into some sort of awe, some reverence for such a formidable collection of *stuff*. These houses were my dream in childhood as a hyperlexic kid who devoured these weird colonial fantasies- A Little Princess, The Secret Garden- I always held this belief that I was going to discover one of these homes was mine. I hoped for a long lost relative- I would have settled for a family scandal if it got me a well stocked library in the eaves of a big, old converted mill.
It’s hard to come to terms with as an adult coming from a childhood spent in persistent poverty, the amount of time spent dreaming of ‘the other side’. The dreams of wealth, abundance, even aristocracy harboured for years on years, blissfully unaware of the ways in which that culture has robbed us and countless others of comfort, safety, dignity and respect.
I’m here with 3 other families- our closest friends and their babies- for a yearly trip. We scour the internet for a Big House that we can budget between us with enough space for comfort, and kitchen enough to feed 16. Wild children in every level of undress dart between the rooms: sweating and cackling after each other; loudly demanding the attention of an adult; crying quietly with determination to alert us to their melancholy. We didn’t expect this house. They are usually much more modest.
‘The photos really didn’t do it justice did they?’
It’s almost impossible to communicate this place through photographs- I imagine the written word will do as little.
Upon arrival we gushed at the sight of every new room, dutifully performing the awe of a mere mortal at the trappings of the Rich and Successful. I felt self conscious afterward, like this whole song and dance would somehow be a gratifying performance for the Lord and Lady of the house (I think they actually do have those titles!) A little display of our ignorance, our comparative nothingness, how far away we are from this life. How silly of us to feel such joy at the honour of sleeping in their grandfather’s little library on the worn, red fold-out couch- these books are worth more than all our worldly possessions!
Last night I searched one of the countless book-filled nooks in the rest of the house for something to read to my son before bed. It felt oddly serendipitous to find a copy of George Macdonald’s ‘The Princess and the Fairy’ tucked between volumes of Scottish folk tales. My dad read me this at the peak of my sad-princess mania when I was around 5, and reading it to R in this strange, beautiful house feels like some bizarre-o world full circle just for a weird little moment. R keeps crying because he can’t enjoy this place fully, knowing we will leave in just 2 days. I’m inclined to feel similarly. So yes, greetings from ‘here’ both physically and emotionally.
Updates and Announcements from Our Work
Firstly, it is most important for me to announce that I will be running 2 classes with the Central Scottish School of Craft!
The first class will be Sew your Own Pants with one of my best and oldest friends-Cassandra from The Stitchery Studio. We will be sewing 1-2 pairs of pants each from the excellent Median Knickers pattern by my internet friend Sophie Hines, learning basic stretch fabric sewing techniques, and working on fitting for our unique bodies.
After working on a slightly chaotic class a few months ago which attempted to teach both bras and pants in 3 days, we have edited ourselves down to a really great 2 day pants workshop on the weekend of the 11th and 12th of Nov, I think you’ll love it if you live around Glasgow or Edinburgh.
“I had a brilliant experience learning to create my undies with Lydia and Cass, I learned so much and feel ready to make so many more. The right balance of challenging and satisfying, I’m really proud of what I made in this excellent class.”
— a previous student
The next class will be Swiss Darning (which I prefer to call duplicate stitch embroidery. It will be Rose and I delivering that one on the 3rd of Dec, just a wonderful, cosy, one day workshop learning to customise and mend knits using my absolutely favourite technique! You don’t even need to know how to knit or embroider to do it- such a dreamy skill!
Otherwise, we are in the editing stage of our next pattern and will be sending out a call for testers asap! The Jackpot Jersey test is going well and I’m starting to see more finished objects.
It’s been a little bit of a hard go lately getting through it all and I’m definitely flirting with burnout (Writing newsletter on holiday who?) but I think we will finally be heading into a slightly more chill phase soon?
The Jackpot Jersey will hopefully still be launching around the 2nd week of November- here’s a sneak peak for you guys!
I’ve been working more on my writing lately and working towards building the skill to try and write a proper full short story! I’ve been really inspired by Josie Long’s new book ‘Because I Don’t Know What You Mean and What you Dont’ this week!
I also wrote a little something else in my new *experimental prose* vibe, not sure what folks will think about it but I’d love you to read it! I would love if you could read it! ⬇️
‘That time, I think about balling it up and trading it in, peeling it off my back, raw and worn from carrying it. I was a bun in the oven. Like- you know when you pull a fresh baked roll away from its batch-mate? A raw bread-edge border, equal and opposite shapes where they grew into each other only to be torn apart. Now I call it my bread dough- my stomach, scarred and mottled, stares back at me, not fully cooked yet. ‘You’re still so young!’
Oven stands impervious ‘look on my works ye mighty and despair’, a lot of hot air!’
I also wrote a silly poem about being fat if you’re not into maximum melancholy:
Fat poem
Look at this lovely round head!
Not one but 2 (two!) beautiful chins!
Plump abundance!
Cheeks like ripe berries erupt in
sweet laughs, words like juice!
Improbable anatomy my dr says-
Even my arms are overachievers!
Belly rising like a sourdough, triumphant in
savoury laughs that are rich-
Filled with the taste of butter!
Expansive! This world filled with the promise
of my body - overflowing, inflating!
I am a balloon animal!
Laughs that POP, words like
warm breath and parties!
Love
From
Lydia
I love this wonderful writing Lydia 🤍. That house sounds mind-blowing! I got such a sense of what it feels like there, and you evoke its vibes with real clarity. Also love the buns and the poem :)