My backyard has always been inspired by Monet’s Giverny paintings. I don’t require garden perfection, but I enjoy a bit of overgrowth, painted furniture in pale teal, blousy climbing vines, and yellow roses. I sit here several times a day with the terriers, enjoy a bit of peace, and sketch out ideas.
I spend several hours a week in downtown Los Angeles and mid-city in my search for the perfect fabrics for our business. Some projects require “stock” fabrics, like solid silks or wools, others budgets ask for a bit of sleuthing…and let me tell you, I am bored with what’s out there. The Fabric District has been sterile, unless one is a crafter…which I am not.
Deciding to skip downtown disappointment, I shook up my usual fabric safari and called a close friend and met up at some no-name fabric warehouse that was closing. This is the sort of place I usually avoid, (I lecture that “you get what you pay for”) but sometimes a change of pace is required.
Smells, dirt, pushy people, this place was predictable . I was ready to give up and then…there it was, my perfect Monet Yellow. It was hidden behind other heavy rolls, so I shamelessly dug it out, drug it over to the window to check it out in the natural light, and started to do the yardage math in my head shared with strains of Handel’s “Messiah”.
It was a good day. We both bought fabric. We shared some girl-designer time at Starbucks, compared ideas, went home inspired, and realized that sometimes amazing fabrics come from humble places.
It takes a pleat, but softly. It rips cleanly on the grain. The fill threads are white, so it has a slight lustre. Twenty four yards of corsets, new dresses, and beautiful bedroom drapes.
I can see a summer 1870s gown in this walking through a painting on a pebbled path. Claude M would approve.
The warp threads easily slide away to create a self-fringe, another test I have for a “perfect fabric”. Adam (hereafter known as: ” Charlie Worth) has taken a piece, tested it, and declared it a rayon/acrylic blend. It feels like the beautiful old rayons (when they were called “imitation silks”) of the 30s.
It’s a very good day. I’ve found a dream fabric and I’m inspired again.