Well, well, well what a week it’s been here are Kraken Kreations. You’ll know by now that I’ve been selling sweary and feminist hearts for Valentine’s Day and they have been so staggering successful that I’m giving Malcolm Tucker a run for his money. That’s why this week I started selling sweary brooches, brooches in the most glorious colours and fabrics but with embroidered centres that holler terms of such ear-bleeding filth that, on Twitter they have come with a warning. Thing is, I had no idea how you, my heavenly customers, would take to them. In my dreams I pictured you flocking to my brooches, in my nightmares I pictured you all shunning me like an immigrant at a UKIP party conference. Well, here’s what happened…
You utterly frigging loved them. In fact since launching Kraken Kreations my sweary brooches have garnered the sort of visitor numbers that would make Alton Towers blush with pride. And no, it’s not the sales that have tickled me. It’s that I am not alone in my love of fruity language. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t scatter expletives through every sentence I utter. However I firmly believe that there is room in life for f-bombs and c-sprays and clearly so do you. I’ve had customers contact me with their own filthy suggestions for brooches, suggestions that outdo my own by a significant margin of filth, all of which I adore and a few of which I could never, ever sew onto anything without my embroidery thread catching fire.
The best part of all of this is what it does to the craft market. You see, wherever you look you can find crafters working with pink florals, ditzy patterns and vintage prints. Some of the handcrafting groups of which I am a member are awash with them and, truly, when you see one string of vintage floral bunting you’ve seen a thousand of them. And then someone comes along with brooches shouting “Fuck nugget!” and it’s immediately attention grabbing. Even better, it challenges the status quo and the outdated notion that adult women want to be treated like 50s housewives by giving them an endless supply of cutesy prints. Not everyone is a fan of swearing (I refuse to say ‘bad’ language because there is nothing bad about it when it is in context) but everyone is a fan of not being patronised and I reckon that’s why my latest sweary ranges have gone down so well. It’s about reflecting customers back to themselves. I have walked out of a thousand shops because their buyers think I only want pretty pinks. They refuse to acknowledge that adult humans swear or fart or grow hair and my brooches acknowledge those things with knobs on. I’m not saying I’m the answer to the high street but I am saying that the High Street needs think hard about the narrowness of the products on offer.
That’s why I love other online stores like Holy Flaps. If you haven’t already you MUST check out Holy Flaps. It sells the prettiest, most delicate crockery and trinket boxes but with such slogans as “Finger my bum”, “Bitch tits”, “Fuckwit” and “Tit wank?” Every time I see a Twitter or Facebook update from it I splutter over my coffee at not just the brilliance of the work but the brilliance of a crafter selling anything but the ubiquitous designs. The same goes for Tilly’s Allsorts a crafter who yesterday updated her status with a papercut card reading “Fuck It” and before that a card reading “You’re a wanker”. And I don’t think I will ever tire of seeing these products because, for once, the market is reflecting me and the way I speak, rather than assuming that because I’m a woman I want to drape my house in a thousand designs that read ‘love’ or ‘home’.
Which is why, if you’re not a fan of my sweary sewing, you’re going to have to close your ears and your eyes. Making these brooches hasn’t just been liberating and a staggering amount of fun but it’s shown me just how much room there is for these products in a market that refuses to acknowledge that women are human. Yes, of course I will still make my funky and graphic bags and home decor but these brooches will stand proudly alongside them. And if you’ve a phrase that you utter when you’ve been cut up on a roundabout or are sick of your job then tell me about it. It can’t be worse than anything that I’m about to sew. Let’s celebrate the diversity, ferocity and fun of our language. In fact, let’s celebrate the fuck out of it. Now, I’m off to sew the phrase ‘bunglecunt’. Wanna come with me?