So we’re redecorating the upstairs powder room and I’m looking for, I don’t know, something special. Something feminine to class the place up, and that also reflects who I am as a person. How can I combine my love of mid-century pop music with my passion for taxidermy?

I know!

The disembodied heads of renowned 60’s girl group, the Kleenettes! I’ll just replace all that neural tissue with soft, absorbent facial tissue and Darlene, Marlene, and Charlene can be with me forever. They’ll go perfectly with my Sha Na Na toothbrush holders.

Every so often, we at the MOKS get a special treat while perusing potential exhibits for our galleries. A celebrity sighting! It doesn’t happen a lot and since we’re woefully out of touch, we often don’t recognize a Hollywood deity when we see one. Luckily, our museum patrons are more on the ball concerning such matters.

A recent overlooked sighting involved Veronica Hamill from Hill Street Blues. (mad props to Deb and Dana, who uncovered it in the comments on that post)

And . . . uhh, that’s it so far.

Until now! I found one, all on my own. Check it out, a Partridge in a – hmmm . . . something clever that rhymes with “pear tree” that’s also fiber related.

Laurie Partridge, also known as Susan Dey, seems to have spent her share of time in ill-conceived handmades. Even with Sybil Shepherd lighting, this ensemble looks more like a medieval “discipline” device than a kicky spring outfit. It’s more of an Iron Junior Miss than an Iron Maiden, but still, I think it would leave a nasty mark. Don’t sit down, Laurie! Fight, dammit, you can do it!

Well, maybe it would have been better if she’d succumbed to the outfit festooned with Musket bullets. Then she wouldn’t be coated in a tangled mess of salt-water taffy. The more she fights, the worse it gets. Soon she’ll be ensconced in a cocoon of sticky sweets.

Alas, perhaps she would have been happier pupating inside a tasty boardwalk treat, yanking out teeth with every gooey bite of her delicious prison. Because the alternative? It’s worse. A mega-plaid pantsuit of pumpkin and aubergine. Delicious at thanksgiving, not so much when applied to a vest with matching knickers. ~shudder~

Because of our constant and crushing self-doubt, we weren’t entirely sure that this was actually her. And then we saw something at the end of the pattern book that assuaged all our doubts.

Behold the Partridge Family Tartan.

Hopefully we’ll find more celebs in the kitschy pages so we can bring them to you in all their glory. If ever you notice one in our galleries that we overlook, by all means, let us know.

Still need more Susan Partridge? Check this site out. It’s called the Museum of Menstruation and Women’s Health (I’m not really sure where they get the acronym “MUM”, but no matter) and I think you’ll enjoy it. Here you’ll see what other stuff poor Laurie Dey was subjected to during her career.

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(before continuing, click for mood music –>‚ Tubular Bells)

Perhaps before Fathers Merrin and‚ Karras took a crack a little Regan, they should’ve asked Sister Mary Katherine‚ Go-Go Boots here to give her a stern talking to.

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The Power of Acrylic compels you!

The Power of Acrylic compels you!

The Power of Acrylic compels you!

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‚ ~sigh~ Another rainy day.

Let’s take a little trip back in time to another rainy day, shall we?

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This year’s New Hampshire Sheep and Wool Festival is but a soggy memory. Many posts about it have already been posted, shoes have finally dried out and I’ve moved on to a whole new set of crappy-weather sniffles. For all intents and purposes, it’s done. Over. A silk/cashmere blend that has slipped through the nimble fingers of time. But what time cannot hold onto, a giant plastic bin can. Check it.

My goal this year was to avoid buying green and purple everything. It was a success of sorts. See if if you can spot this year’s color scheme.

First up – wool sock yarn from Dorchester Farms. I can’t seem to find a website for them, but I love that there’s a farm in Dorchester. It’s not exactly . . . farmland. I‚ also love that that it’s referred to as “Dot”, Dorchester Ave is “Dot Ave”, even. And they do have a pretty good zoo. We had our company party there once, it was great fun. One time, a young gorilla named “Little Joe” escaped from there and attacked someone at a nearby bus stop.‚  Craziness. Great yarn!

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And here is some soft wool/silk spun by the “Unlikely Shepherd”, Tim Benjamin. That’s a drawing of him on the card. Seriously, he’s a biker dude with a long beard. My mom told him she liked it and he said “So do the goats! They nibble on it sometimes.” He works at Kelly Corner Farm, which looks like a wonderful place. A dream come true, even. Here, click this. You’ll be happy you did.

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And here was the deal of the day. It’s about 1600 yards of New Zealand wool from Pollywogs for 17 bucks! W00t! It’s a little scratchier than I normally go for, bit I think these colors will make a good jackety sweater thing that won’t touch my skin ever.‚ 

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And here is one of my splurges. It’s a wool/mohair blend from Still River Mill. They’re known more for processing fiber, but I couldn’t pass this stuff up. It’s one of those things that’s hard to photograph. It has that cool, smooth texture of mohair that I can’t resist. And the color is amazing. Indoors, it looks black, but when you hold it in sunlight, the rich blue glistens through. Gorgeous stuff. It’s going to be a wrap sort of thing.

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And of course, I had to stop off at Maple Creek Farms. They were in a building near the entrance and I almost missed them. They don’t seem to have a website, but that’s ok. I can wait for festival season to stock up. The thicker one is a superwash wool that’s going to become something for my impending niece! I’m thinking a little hooded blanket, but who knows. Maybe a kickin’ dress would be good, too.

The other one is a Merino/silk blend. It’s the same yarn I used for my first Clapotis and I just can’t say enough good things about it. The drape is amazing, it’s a tactile delight, and I think no matter what it turns into, it will be fantastic. Seriously, get some of this stuff. It even smells really good.

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And the swag was not limited to yarn. Nope. I actually made an amazing score towards the end of the day Saturday. I spied with my vintage-seeking eye a basket of old pattern books. It was like eBay right there in front of me! They were priced individually, and of course I asked how much for the whole kit and caboodle. The lovely woman at the booth said “I dunno. How much do you want to pay?”‚ I made an offer, she lowered it‚ and we thanked each other profusely. She wanted to get them out of her house and I wanted to get them into mine.

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While I was there, I bought some raffle tickets and a couple of days later, found that I won not one, but two of the items they were raffling off! There were two skein of natural yarn from Kitefield Farm and some wool/angora batting. Not sure where that’s from, but I love the hot pink.

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So not a bad haul, eh? We had a great time, despite the biblical weather. It was Mother’s Day, so I went with my mom and dad. My dad got a huge kick out of learning how silk is rendered from the cocoons and he chatted up a few of the guys who made spinning wheels. When he was young, he worked with the big industrial loom at a textile mill, so when he saw a big wooden loom, he sat right down behind it and explained what all the pieces were and how it all worked. I think my mom was afraid that he was going to break it and they’d have to take it home with them. He probably would have like that, actually. He and my mom worked together in a sweater mill called Pandora when they first met. I was born to knit.

My mom didn’t end up buying any yarn, despite the beautiful things she’s been making lately. Like this Sophie bag.

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How beautiful is this? She added the embroidery and a little loop on the side to hold your glasses. Lately, she’s fallen for the seductive lure of the quilt and spends more time with her sewing machine than with her knitting needles. And, well, I have an admission to make.

So have I.

Y’see, my mom got a new sewing machine and gave me her old one. It’s just like knitting a sweater, only the fabric is already made and you don’t have to seam it by hand! Neat! And because I didn’t feel like farting around all small time, I started by making a cute little tank top with darts and pleats and interfacing, oh my. I know how clothes are put together. Well, mostly I do. Jon had to help me at one point, if you can believe that. Yes, Jon, my husband. He noticed a glaring error and helped me work it out. He’s much better at visualizing how things are constructed. My mom also helped me alter the shirt when I was done with it and realized that the inexplicable pleats in the back made me look like an Elizabethan fat-ass. It’s much better now. See?

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Whew! Look at that. An entire week’s worth of posting in one convenient, easy to use post. I’ll make my way to Mother’s Day, you’ll see.

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There’s an old adage that says “there are no atheists in foxholes.” Judging from the list of religious intonations that poured out of my mouth the very second I stumbled across these twisted playthings of the Dark Lord, I’d say that adage also holds true for anyone in their presence.

Toto the Clown, seen at the bottom, seems evil enough on his own. His apparent possession of two mouths, both most certainly full of needle sharp teeth meant for penetrating tender flesh, is enough to make your skin crawl right off your body and into the next room. But add his pal, Tony, and you may as well ask Old Scratch himself for a play date. Did I mention that according to the pattern, Tony is an Organ Grinder? The very thought of him snatching my liver and stuffing it into his monkey-powered gore machine while playing a merry tune is just too much to bear. I’m going to need a little lay down.