Popcorn and Sushi

Japanese Thrift with a Hug Thrown In

Image by Jeremy Brooks via Flickr

A Japanese lady--a complete stranger--hugged me last night.  Husband and I were out walking while our kids were in their Japanese lessons nearby, when Husband suddenly veered off course into a tiny neighborhood store that had recently opened.  I'd noticed it a few weeks back and mentioned to him that we should go in sometime, as it's a big day indeed when you spot anything in Japan with the word "thrift" on it.

The funny thing about our going in on this occasion is that we couldn't buy anything. For the month of January, we are entrenched in our annual (at a minimum) Extreme Thrift Mode, which unfortunately has nothing to do with thrift-ing.  Here I was, at an actual thrift store, and I couldn't buy a thing.  It just seemed so wrong.  Since I had no purchasing power (seriously, none--I'd left my wallet in the car),  I preferred to linger outside the store, picking through the plastic miso bowls, winter coats reeking of mothballs, and other meager offerings there, but Husband called me inside.  Why?  To look with him at the really cool stuff we couldn't buy! 

While the display of items out front was typical of the kinds of things that can be found in a small, dusty thrift shop in the U.S., the indoor portion was more like a dusty antiques store.  With only a cursory, resentful glance, I saw lots of kokeshi dolls in a cabinet, a great retro framed geisha print, and loads of pottery among the jam-packed wares.  Husband spotted, and asked the papa-san about, a lovely antique chest of drawers, a Sendai-dansu, which, naturally, was a good deal for that type of thing but significantly more than what most people are willing to pay in a "thrift" store.  And, of course, had it been cheap-o cheap we wouldn't have bought it anyway, while in Extreme Thrift Mode.  We were a tease. 

But the store proprietors knew nothing of our spending prohibition, so they encouraged us, saying "expensive, demo (but)..." about several items that caught Husband's discerning eye.  While I was rounding a corner and the rather large mama-san was coming directly at me, the hug occurred--a split-second, simple reaching-out with one arm--just enough to pull me close to her momentarily as we passed en route to opposite sides of the store.

Did I imagine some intended affection, or was it a mere attempt to stay steady on her feet?  I can't help but feel it's the former, though my experience with hugs from Japanese non-acquaintances had previously been exactly zero.

It was time to get back to our walk.  Puzzled, but somehow filled with goodwill toward this woman who dared to flout social conventions, I promised we'd come back.  Maybe in February, when "Extreme Thrift" may take on a different meaning entirely.

Tea with Jeu de Paume

It's been months since I've bought a Jeu de Paume book.  Where I live, they can be hard to find.  I spotted this one recently in a shop and decided a few days later to make it mine, via Japanese Amazon (easy, peasy...).  Sometimes I save my Japanese-language mooks (magazine-books) for when I'm watching TV or on the phone with family, since I'm only looking at the pictures, after all. But this title was just right for a sit-down with tea yesterday afternoon when it was raining. 

You can see another lovely Jeu de Paume title here, in this very cool blog.  And if you don't want to bother with Amazon.jp, you can order these and other Japanese-language mooks from yesasia.com.  Fun!

Return of the Sewing Mojo

 
I've been sewing since I was in high school, or maybe junior high.  My parents bought me a used Singer machine (we didn't own one, as my mom doesn't sew) and signed me up for a summer class at a local fabric store.  I learned the basics of sewing (including the frequent use of Mr. Seam Ripper) and of using and maintaining a machine.  After that summer, I went on to sew things from time to time.  I loved sitting on those fabric-store stools and flipping through weighty pattern books (mostly avoiding the Vogue ones, since my teacher had said those patterns were more "advanced"). 

But by the time I'd started college, I wasn't sewing much, finding little in the way of time or inclination.  Then I went to work, married, had a couple of kids, and sewed even less.  I did figure out how to sew improvisationally (i.e. repurposing), though--once turning a huge thrifted circle skirt into a shoulder bag, hair scrunchy (this was 1996), makeup bag, pillow cover, and applique for a thrifted baby's jumper.  That was one enormous skirt.

Actually, I went through a period of several years when I thought it was cheaper and easier to buy thrift store and garage sale items rather than make things myself.  While this was probably true for the most part, I missed the satisfaction of wearing and using my own creations.  So I started sewing again, a little at a time.  After my good old Singer gave up the ghost, my parents even bought me a new machine, a Janome Excel Pro 5124 that came highly recommended.  But then we moved to Japan, and I found myself with the great excuse of not having a place to set up my machine.  Two years later, we moved to a bigger place, et voila, the excuse was gone.  And after buying a couple of stacks of fabric, I broke down and bought a pattern, too.  The purchase of a pattern meant I had to sew.  And I did, last week--I made an Amy Butler Frenchy Bag, above.  I've been an Amy Butler fan for the past four or five years, and I'm so glad I can now purchase not only her patterns (a skirt may be just over the horizon), but her gorgeous fabrics as well.  I think my sewing mojo is back, at long last.

By the way, a couple of great online fabric shops are Sew, Mama, Sew and Purl Soho.

Knitting Frenzy

To say that I am in a knitting frenzy is to make quite a good joke.  I love to read craft blogs, often crafting vicariously through them.  On occasion, I do go the extra step and actually make something myself.  Such has not been the case with knitting.  I don't even know how long I've been trying to knit--if trying means buying a book (and oh, look--another one, or three!) and reading the first two pages, then setting it aside for two months, then buying some yarn, then three months later, buying several sizes of knitting needles.  And then, what self-respecting knitter would do without a cute tote bag for her yarn and needles, right??  So it goes, and all of this without knitting so much as one row.

A couple of weeks into December, I was met with this inspired idea:  I will learn how to knit and purl, will buy just the right color/size/type of yarn, and will knit an entire wearable scarf for Husband by Christmas Eve!  Or wait--did that brilliant thought occur to me last December?   No matter,  because  I knew, deep down (or maybe shallow-down, if there is such a thing), that something would stand in my way:  the fact that I could not figure out how to knit--not last year, not the year before. 

And why not, with all of those aforementioned how-to books at the ready, you might ask?  Well--I don't know.  I just had some sort of anti-knitting brain block affecting me, which left me completely unable to make head nor tails of the printed instructions and pictures in any of the "any child  can learn to do this!" books.  Even crafty First Child, who likes to weave and sculpt and bead, couldn't figure out what to do.  Being the conscientious child that she is (she wanted to make something for her dad, too), she set to work with me again this year.  We cuddled on the couch a couple of times, each of us looking at the other's needles to see if there was any progress.  For the longest time, nothing (Second Child, who was also purportedly interested, uncharacteristically gave up without a fight). 

Then a new, much-brighter idea occurred to me:  I'll look for an online video tutorial!  And lo and behold, my search soon led me to what must be the very fount of knitting knowledge, presented for free, in video format:  the genius of KnittingHelp, brainchild of Amy Finlay, bless her.  That very day, all on account of moving pictures, our clueless streak was ended and we officially became Knitters, via Double Cast-On and the Continental knitting method.  I'm sorry to report, though, that LOTK (life other than knitting) quickly intervened, and we were once again forced to give an IOU for the scarf.  At least next December, we'll already know how to knit.

Cool Crafty Downloads

I'm loving these free pdf downloads offered by some talented, and obviously very nice, crafty women:

gingerbread man garland from Amy Karol at king pod

Hannah's sweet and simple recipe cards from The Recipe Box

various items of papery goodness from Sarah at The Small Object Steno Pad

Just in time for holiday decorating, cooking, gift-giving, and--well, just having fun (check out Sarah's thumb-wrestling championship belts!). Thank you, thank you!

Another Jeu de Paume Tome

I happened upon another gorgeous Jeu de Paume book recently. I spotted it and snapped it up immediately, dragging it off to another part of the bookstore like a feral cat crashing a picnic. It took me, oh--about twenty seconds of flipping-through to decide that "Stockholm's Apartments" was a keeper. Just as in London Kitchens, the colors are bright and the designs almost always non-minimalist. Love it, bought it, can't read it, but no matter. Who buys decorating books for the text, anyway?

London Kitchens

The other day, while nosing through the delightful selection in my favorite nearby (Japanese) book and magazine shop, I stumbled upon this book.  It was nestled appropriately in the craft/decorating/homemaking/lifestyle aisle that I haunt greedily whenever I have the chance. 

I suppose I should mention that I don't read Japanese, and I don't know of a single other American around here who frequents Japanese bookstores.  I'm a bit of a loner in this regard, and I often wonder whether Japanese people in these stores ever ponder whether or not the red-haired gaijin woman hanging out for an hour in the decorating mags can actually read them. Alas, you won't hear me saying "I only buy it for the articles," because when I buy Japanese magazines/books (sometimes it's hard to distinguish between these descriptors), I definitely am buying them only for the pictures!

But back to my latest purchase. I often envy and appreciate a certain kind of European style, and especially this style as seen through the eye of the Japanese book and magazine publisher.  Japanese people seem to love a quirky, vintage, handmade Europeanness--basically "zakka" style-- which is exactly what I prefer. This book showcasing cool kitchens in London is perfect. It's not a book full of spare, sleek, carefully-edited, built-in kitchens that could be in a Home Depot showroom (the kind of kitchen that's unfortunately on display all too often in American decorating mags). These kitchens are alive with color, useful utensils, cute-modern items, vintage displays, and loads of style. I love them all. Jeu de Paume publishes plenty of other lovely decorating books, too--I flipped through some in Tokyo a couple of years ago, but as I recall, Husband was lurking in the area to make sure I didn't blow the day's food budget on more "unnecessary" (ha!) magazines and books that I can't read.  Oh, but I do love them so!

New Crafty Mag

Goody!  I've found a new magazine, one of that rare breed of DIY craft mags I can classify as "Craftus Cool-icus," not to be confused with the much more common species "Craftus Kountry-Kute-icus."  It's called Adorn, and I think I might subscribe, if I can be bothered to pick up the phone and dial the 800-number listed on the website (I'm lazy that way--get that junk online, already!).  I think it's a quarterly, which means I may have a fighting chance of actually reading the whole thing, or at least what I'm most interested in, before the next issue arrives.  Of course that doesn't mean I'll do any of the projects (I'm crazy about Martha Stewart Kids, but someone would have to show up at my door in Japan and personally escort me to a table in a locked room and make me stay there for hours on end, supplies at the ready, to get me to complete more than one project per issue).

To sweeten the deal, there's a giveaway in Adorn's summer premiere issue.  That's right up my alley, whatever it is, and lo:  it's a neat-o hand-crank Fiskars craft drill!  That would be good for me, the type of person who really should steer clear of power tools (don't get Husband started on the time I tried mowing our lawn in Texas with a gas-powered push-mower--I'm more of a Luddite reel-mower gal, and actually, I'm more about mowing "in theory").  Alas, I seriously doubt I will win the hand-crank drill, in part because I am unlikely to enter, since again, it can't be done online!  They want me to send them a postcard, and I'm too cheap for that--especially since we all know I won't win.  Did I mention that I didn't win the Blend Creations gift certificate?