You know how much I like tweed. I love the warmth, the texture and the amazing number of colours that go into producing one seemingly-plain weave. When you look up close, there are often shots of lime green and turquoise in fabric that had announced itself, at first, as something quite conservative. I imagine, in days not too long ago (and perhaps still, in one or two places on the Western Isles) an old weaver setting his loom up in his weaving shed, choosing the threads that will make up the warp and weft. In comes his wife, and she is apparently shocked at reels of magenta and deep purple in amongst the more sober tones of mossy greens. 'Surely you can't be thinking of adding those colours to the tweed?' she exclaims. He says nothing, just smiles and carries on his work. She rolls her eyes and sets down his mug of tea, both of them knowing full well what makes tweed sing and move with hidden depths. Have a look one day, pulling out a few threads and you'll be amazed at the colour recipes, revealing the genius of their creators.
Among my lovely Christmas presents this year, my mother-in-law gave me a subscription to
Marie Clare Ideés which is a fabby French magazine, full of inspiration and fresh ideas. In the latest edition there is a section aimed at more masculine taste using wools and tweed. It looked like the ideal project for my scraps, but once I got going I decided not to make cushions. Instead, I'm going to make a quilt instead, which I can throw over the sofa and cosy up under this winter.
I couldn't help noticing this chair too.
Hmm, doesn't it look similar to something I made earlier this year?
Nice to be ahead sometimes!
Posts
