C L E A N I N G  O U T   M Y   C L O S E T

It all began an ordinary rainy day.

The big cupboard in my sewing corner was too full, and had been for too long. Suddenly all flowers wanted out. Small patches, clothes to mend, old sheets. From the closet with old textile, some that never got sewn, favourite garments beyond salvation, I took out the best and laid them on the guestroom bed. Started putting them together. Which colors would lift the others, which gave them ease. Which sank each other.
A bit like painting, but without the opportunity to blend the right nuance. Memories of a dear one the just passed away, children's pants from Kenzo, full of holes on knee and bottom. Roses from an apron my old mother and her sisters had while knitting mittens to finnish soldiers.

You don't cut up everything you've got, said the husband with two lovely shirts in hand.

Start sewing in trance. Wake in the morning with flowers in my head. Rummage in the shed with working clothes, pulling out the laces from all sweatpants. I need them. They're for the girls, they who swarm around me while volants, frills and pockets grow.

About the garments

The fancy sewing machine with over-lock got into trouble so instead all seems are french.
Neat, especially for the young ones that often have their clothes inside out. Started to wonder why it was so important for me to have the inside just as tidy as the outside.
Maybe so that several garments actually could be reversible. Yes!
And practically no buttons, zippers or hooks and eyes.

About Circuses

Circular living.
Besides that.
Years of working in the world of true circus has taught me that the seemingly wild and crazy always includes meticulous order.

Inspired

FlowerPower. The ocean. Stones. And all the flowers from our garden (See bottom of showroom page). Micke took the pictures.
Marie