Bunting

I don't know why bunting appeals to me, but things dangling in a line always command my attention.  I even find lines of clean wash pegged out to dry interesting and am sorry that the home dryer has replaced the old-fashioned habit of hanging out the wash to dry.  I have vivid memories of my mother pegging out bed linen and clothing on a clever pulley-style clothes line that my dad built for her.  It allowed her to stand on our second-floor back porch and hang load after load of wash to dry, and the clothes waved above us as we played in the back yard!

Digression aside, I have wanted to improve the windows of the studio with bunting above the scrim curtains.  Of course, I don't care to make them perfectly pointed triangles; much too tightly wrapped for me.  An interesting bunting would have some ravelling of the linen ground, be made with batting and backing and include a dash of vintage buttons and trims, single-fold seam binding, scraps of glove leather and tiny pieces of fabric, a bowl of interestingly-texturd threads—   How could this NOT be fun?

To make some sense of the idea and tie the parts of the bunting together, the three pieces that make up this small bunting have one thing in common:  kid leather salvaged from vintage gloves that are splitting or very dry and cracking.  I love the shapes of the fingers, and use them as often as I'm able.  In these three, I've used the fingers or parts of the fingers, and cut small squares from other parts of the glove.  Figuring out how to hem the several layers of the pieces was an interesting challenge, so I settled on whip-stitching some thread or combination of threads to seal up the raw edges.  After some searching, I decided upon sari thread, scrim, or heavy-weight linen.

One window done, seven more to go!  And I think it would be interesting to try something entirely different for the next one.  Does that surprise you?  Me neither!