Psychedelic

The F -Word

So this week is what I call a tech week, a week where I fiddle with my social media tools, make a few website changes and discover a few new swear words. You didn’t need me to tell you this though, because you’d have understood as much from the small rage-based mushroom cloud that has appeared over my sewing shed.  The upside is that, as a result of my cyber exertions, I now merrily present to you my fabric directory where you can trawl virtually through the shelves of said sewing shed, picking out your fave fabrics whenever you want to commission a product.

Thing is, while the fabric directory makes it waaaay easier for you to use this site it also gives you a terrifying taste of the levels of ditherment I experience whenever I shop for fabrics. Within seconds of spotting a fabric I love my brain explodes with such questions as: “Is fabric A better than fabric B? What if I love it but my customers don’t? Would the woman who commissioned that beach bag like this colourway? But I love that colourway so does it matter? What will it look like on a tote? Who in the hell wants it on a tote? Have I got any rum in my handbag? Rum? Rum? Give me rum!”, and so on and so forth until I am gently guided from the store by a security guard trained in mental health issues. If you’re anything like me, this fabric directory is my way of showing you that by the time I post a fabric on my Facebook pageTwitter feed or Pinterest page I’ve experienced the mental equivalent of Billy Smart’s circus.

And you know what? The more customers I have the more shopping for fabric feels like shopping by committee. Somehow, instead of fabric shopping alone I do it with all of you customers in my head, wondering how you’d all feel about my latest purchase or the fact that I just walked away from something wowwy. In fact, I am this close to hiring coaches and suggesting tours of fabric shops just to get you all out of my head and onto the shop floor.

So even if you don’t want a product but love a fabric, let me know. The more I know about what you love, the more likely I am to feel you tugging at my sleeve the next time I go fabric shopping. And as long as you don’t ask me to take you to a distant toilet as Kraken Junior does when I take her fabric shopping, we’ll have the shopping spree of our lives.

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