Forget-me-not Patterns on the global stage

If you’ve been following the launch of Tauko magazine, you might notice that New Zealander Johanna Morris - a Wellingtonian, to boot! - features in the first issue with her pattern for a lovely waterfall cardigan called Kirsi. We caught up with her to learn more about her pattern-making practice and her journey with her company, Forget-me-not Patterns, thus far.

Jo in her Adeline wrap dress

NEWTOWN HOUSE: Please tell us how you got started in sewing, and in pattern-making. When did you launch Forget-me-not?

JOHANNA MORRIS: I have always loved making things with my hands, so I've dabbled with all sorts of creative things throughout my life. I started out with home sewing as a hobby, but I never thought I'd seriously do anything fashion-related as a job. I started my design degree initially intending to work in visual design, but my obsession for pattern-making and fashion design was really where my heart was, and that led me to switch to get my bachelor's degree in fashion. After graduating, I realised that makers were my people, as I am very passionate about slow fashion, sustainability, and the joy of making. That led me back to the sewing community, and I launched Forget-me-not in mid-2019.

NH: How could you describe your style? Is it evolving over time?

JM: My style has definitely evolved a lot over time! When I first started, my style was a lot more kitsch and vintage-inspired. These days, I am more drawn to understated details and prints. I've never lost my love for tailored and fitted looks though; I think that will always be my favourite kind of style to design and wear! I think I'd describe myself as a shy but exacting person, so that comes through in my designs not being flashy, but having thoughtful details.

NH: What do you find most inspiring about your business?

JM: Definitely the lovely customers! I've met so many kind and supportive people in the sewing community. I love sharing their passion for making, and it inspires me to strive to make sewing as enjoyable as possible, with instructions that are helpful, and make learning fun! That was always a pain point for me as a beginner sewer; frustrating instructions that were vague and made you want to chuck the whole garment away. Haha!
NH: What's your favourite pattern, and why?

JM: My favourite pattern right now is the Adeline wrap dress. It has quite a few of my signature elements, with a tailored fit and a little something extra added with the structured diagonal pleats. It's all about the details! It also really challenged me - I like to design things that are not-so-basic and stand out from the crowd.

NH: What's next for Forget-me-not? (And how did you choose the name for your business?)

JM: Next year I'm hoping to release more designs! This year was a difficult one in so many ways, but I've slowly and steadily been moving forward. I always push myself technically as a pattern designer too, so no doubt there will be some interesting patternmaking and construction to show for my efforts. For the business name, I chose a flower that summed up my design vision - something that is quite delicate, and maybe not the biggest, boldest, brightest bloom, but beautiful nonetheless. And the name "Forget-me-not" also fits with my passion for the small details that make designs memorable.

NH: What's your favourite thing about sewing? How would you 'sell' the experience of garment sewing to someone who was curious about starting?

JM: My favourite thing about sewing is getting into the flow and watching a 2D pattern piece transform into a 3D shape thanks to my hands! There are so many things to love about sewing. I'd sell the experience as something that is very empowering. You get to make something that is uniquely you, and that's something to be proud of, no matter what you make. I never tire of sewing because there's always more to learn and always exciting designs on the horizon to explore.

Photos courtesy Jo Morris and TAUKO magazine. If you’d like a copy, you can pick one up from us here.

Miss Click Clack: Building a life around colour and texture

Kelly O’Day - aka Miss Click Clack - in Melbourne black

We were first drawn to Miss Click Clack / Kelly O’Day’s beautiful yarn in part by her gorgeous, moody blacks and dark tones which to us evoke Melbourne’s dark laneways, changeable weather (like Wellington!) and chic fashionistas. If Sydney is sparkle and white, Melbourne is cool and black. At least that’s how it seems to us from a distance! But digging into the story of Miss Click Clack was even more fascinating – as her Instagram profile tells us, she had cancer twice. Her relentlessly positive attitude, her amazing photography from wild spots around the world and around Australia and her (naturally) lovely handknits (and oh, the socks) compelled us to write to her to learn more. She kindly obliged with the interview below.

NEWTOWN HOUSE: Please tell us how you got started yarn wrangling / dyeing / knitting ... and what was the work you were doing before you started working with wool?

Precocious and clever crafting: Fibre love started early for Kelly O’Day.

KELLY O’DAY: Craft insinuated itself into my life at an early age. When I was a pre-schooler a sewing kit was offered to me by way of a bribe if I’d cut my hair for school. I succumbed to the lure, but yarn was already my jam. I’d learnt to knit at four, and in prep (my first year of school) I completely rocked (over same haircut) an apricot pixie hat I’d made from a stockinette rectangle folded and seamed on one edge, affixed by a couple of garter stitch straps. Then when I was seven my mum learnt to crochet, and she taught me. I liked it. A lot. In Year 5 I crocheted myself so many garments (seven) that my teacher asked if I’d make something for her. But my dad, protective of his prodigious spawn, said no. These days we would have seen the opportunity – he’d have been be my agent, contracts would’ve been drawn replete with IP clauses and stipulations of hefty remuneration, I’d have had my own tweeny podcast, and, of course, there’d be those segments on daytime TV where I’d have looked completely darling in some groovy, self-crafted ‘70s ensemble, still sporting most of my milk teeth. But being the parents of a craftily precocious child also had its downside. At ten, in true enfant terrible style, I threw my first hissy fit because I had to settle for a ‘lesser’ pure wool yarn than the ‘superior’ one I wanted for a granny square tank-top. I’d become a yarn snob. The template for adult life had been set. 

Yarn and I hung out right through high school and right through uni. When I set off to work at a cytogenetics lab in a large teaching hospital my knitting bag jumped into the car and rode shotgun.

The foray into crafty retail came late in my working career. I was knitting during work breaks and one day realised that I had a stupid number of hand-knitted accessories lying idle. So I started side-hustling under the brand ‘Miss Click Clack’. Things took off and I sold hundreds and hundreds of my Smith Street Beret (sounds kind of OCD now that I put that in print…). It was always fun to cruise up and down Smith Street Collingwood, or Brunswick Street Fitzroy (two happening precincts) and count them off, and secretly snap the occasional photo (sounds kind of creepy now that I put that in print…). I wanted to make berets in colours I couldn’t find so yarn dyeing seemed the logical next step. I’d also started buying hand-dyed sock yarn which had awakened something big in me. Lightbulb big. Epiphany big. I want-to-do-it-too big. I began to dabble, but was curtailed from running with it while working, so there was a hiatus of several years before ‘Miss Click Clack Yarn Dyer’ hit the retail scene in a meaningful way.

NH: Where did you get the idea for Miss Click Clack, and how challenging was it for you starting out? And where did you get the name Miss Click Clack?

Miss Click Clack’s moody beauties

KO: I appropriated part of the ‘Miss Click Clack’ name from a knitting ad that used to be on the telly a million years ago. It had a breathy, onomatopoeic ‘click clack’ voiceover which, over the years, would pop in and out of my consciousness until I eventually robbed it and became ‘Miss Click Clack’. It was only after I quit my job following a cancer diagnosis that Miss Click Clack took a jump to the right and morphed into the yarn dyer that most of you are familiar with. Yarn dyeing was supposed to be a ‘gentle hobby that paid for itself’ while I considered my new post-cancer life and I set modest production targets. But after some early attention on social media things went BANG so I cranked things up, dyeing on my kitchen stove full time between meals. I think I was lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time with a product that filled a hole. Melbourne seemed to be gagging for a local dyer who understood her urbane, moody aesthetic - her love of black, charcoal, navy, and colours shot with grey – with the occasional need for a punchy colour accent. Of course, my yarn sells everywhere – not just here in my hometown - and I have many loyal customers from myriad climes (including NZ!) so there’s a lot of what I like to call ‘Melbourne taste’ out there. Of course, it might really just be urbane-taste-in-a-temperate-climate! But whatever the truth, I’ve claimed the palette for Melbourne, as I’m not one for letting the truth get in the way of a good story! 

NH: Tell us a bit about your range of Melbourne blacks - they're glorious. But what is it about Melburnians and black? And what are your primary inspirations for your colourways?

KO: The colourway ‘Melbourne Black’ is a moody blue-leaning charcoal which pays homage to both Melbourne’s iconic bluestone buildings, and her love of peri-black fashion. Melburnians love boots, and denim, and love to layer. They love wearing eclectic contemporary brands with vintage pieces, to which colour pops are added via a scarf or beanie. So the deliciously peri-black Melbourne Black went off like a bomb. I was rapt. I love my hometown and most of my yarn bases have some sort of Melbourne angle to their name (for example, ‘Bearbrass,’ the name of my BFL base, was one of the early name contenders for Melbourne before ‘Melbourne’ got the official gong). It’s been important to me to keep the Melbourne identity and to not lose that connection to the generous community that put me on the yarn-map in the first place.

Kelly in the tundra wearing a raspberry Rikke hat

NH: How do you spend your days, these days?

KO: If knitting hundreds of the same beret wasn’t a sufficiently illuminating glimpse into an aspect of my personality then let me be explicit: when struck by a passion I can be obsessive. And dyeing yarn became a passion which became obsessive - to the detriment of my well-being on occasion. But five-plus years down the track (I don’t like to rush things) I’m happy to report that I’ve finally found a work-life balance that works. I’m reading again, seeing family and friends more often, having ‘date-days’ with my husband, keeping up with my daily walks, and planning to get down-and-dirty doing conservation work on a bush block we’ve just bought. Sadly, dear husband, there still isn’t time for housework. 😉

So, yes, I am still dyeing, but dyeing less. But when I do want to chuck a bit of colour on some yarn I work to a three days’ rhythm. I studiously made a list of everything I do over these three days in the first draft of the answer to this question, but by the end I’d chewed through half an A4 page and my eyes had completely glazed over and rolled back into my head. So I will spare you the excruciating minutiae of being a solo yarn-dyer dyeing between meals on her kitchen stove. Instead I will tell you that in each day there are about two hours of ‘fun’ (dyeing/admiring) and eight hours (yes, the days can be long) of ‘un-fun’. Dyers can look so glamourous in public settings, surrounded by their delicious work. But you never see the pot-scrubbing, the back-breaking rinsing of yarn in the bathtub, the standing in queues at the post office, and the violence perpetrated against printers that spit the dummy when orders need to be printed and shipped. And my finger-tips – perennially wrinkled – I always fail the fingerprint test when entering the US.

NH: What inspires you? And which aspects of your work do you most enjoy? And how do you power through the less-fun parts?

KO: When I was fifteen my Home Group teacher gave me Peter Bowler’s The Superior Person’s Little Book of Words, confirming absolutely my (unspoken) self-estimation that I was, indeed, a Superior Person. I then proceeded to shoehorn my (now even more) Superior Lexicon into essays, much to the amusement of other teachers, while haughtily poo-pooing snorts of derision from classmates. Which is all quite a circumambagious (ahem) way of saying that I have loved words and language from a very early age and that often a colourway name comes to me before the actual colourway. In fact I keep a running list of prospective names which I augment (because the list never reduces) as inspiration strikes. I have colourways that are single words (‘Spodumene’, ‘Petrichor’); an entire range inspired by bears (‘Bear Hug’, ‘Bear Market’, ‘There’s A Bear in There’); another inspired by ponies (‘Show Pony’, ‘The Dappled Pony’, ‘The Felicitous Filly’); names inspired by pop culture and catchcries (‘Favourite 501s’, ‘Fake News’, ‘Houston, We Have a Problem’, ‘You’re Not the Boss of Me’); by songs and music (‘Brass in Pocket’, ‘We Got Married in a Fever’, ‘Ring of Fire’); and - because I like to show off - the occasional Shakespearian reference including ‘Fair Verona’, with ‘Posh Boy’ and ‘Poncing Pufflington Pants’ inspired by the “Upstart Crow” TV series). Occasionally the inverse happens and I am struck with Colourway Name Block which makes me very crabby because Superior Persons ought to be immune from such lapses. Nevertheless these little word games and pun plays are fun, and one of the ways I power through the many ‘less fun parts’. 

That, and dopamine.

Stripey socks

Apparently, every time an online sale notification pops up on my phone a big, juicy squirt of dopamine hits my brain’s reward centre. I guess it’s this addiction to the ‘hit’ that keeps many microbusinesses (including mine) ticking over even when the physical work is demanding and the financial remuneration modest. It certainly explains a lot of my extreme behaviours (the more I dye the more I sell and the more hits I get!). I now appreciate the importance of enforcing a sensible work/life balance. But while all that brain chemistry stuff is going on unconsciously, consciously I also derive a lot of pleasure from the aesthetic of a dyed skein of yarn (I can admire a new colourway for days!) and then get an enormous buzz seeing it crafted into something wonderful by a customer. These are the things that make it all worthwhile. That and the friends I’ve made. The community has been abundantly generous with its love.

NH: Your Instagram profile is fascinating - you talk about being an aspiring flaneuse (a concept I am completely in line with), a lapsed cytogeneticist and that you once had cancer twice. We'd be grateful to hear as much of what sits behind those lines as you're comfortable sharing. 

KO: Oh I could have listed many more things (failed novelist! occasional twitcher! champion of the apostrophe!) but I was limited by the number of characters in Instagram’s bio field which might be just as well for the reading pleasure of your lovely audience!

Aspiring Flaneuse: ‘aspiring’ because there is certain sartorial comportment that goes with being a proper Flaneuse which I’m unlikely to achieve in leisurewear. But I’ve been a street explorer forever (albeit propelled by a bike as a kid). My favourite period of nearly proper ‘flaneusing’ (should that be a word) was in my 20s and 30s when I lived in inner Melbourne. I would watch the people - what they were doing, what they were wearing, how they were living - all the while pondering the big questions: what it means to be human (which decisions are free, and which are pre-ordained, hard-wired), how we live together, what drives our need for personal space, and what are the ways we express either our individuality, or allegiance to a tribe (although I confess that in my current suburban domicile I’m largely perplexed and preoccupied by the human need to exact periodic domination over a patch of lawn with a violent machine). I also love to walk the laneways - the public spaces that most people don’t stop to explore - the service network of micro-streets that run behind houses and businesses. In fact, I have a yarn base that has a twist which reminds me of the bluestone pitchers that pave many of Melbourne’s laneways. I named it ‘Nightman’s Highway’, a nod to the forgotten ‘nightman’ and his weekly tending of the household ‘thunderbox’ via these laneways (yes, #worldsworstjob). So you see, that flaneusal (should that also be a word!) part of me has percolated into my yarn dyeing business!

A coffee break from the dye pots

‘Lapsed cytogeneticst’: I’m loathe to divorce myself from the moniker ‘cytogeneticist’ as it was my identity for decades, so ‘lapsed’ is our gentle separation. 

‘I once had cancer twice’: one day I left work early to have a mammogram, and I never went back. In the process of characterising one cancer, a second and different cancer was found. Two different cancers, one episode of cancer surgery and treatment. It was very efficient of me.

NH: What is ahead for Miss Click Clack?

KO: I have no plans to crank up production, so perhaps it’s time for Miss Click Clack The Book?! My friends will tell you that at any one time there is the plot a novel in my head! As Miss Click Clack I’ve accrued an excellent stockpile of fibre industry stories – some related to the warm and diverse yarn-addicted friends I’ve made along the way, others to the cunning and devious ways of villainous (I just wanted to use that word!) rival dyers – stories ripe for comedic exploitation by some sassy author! Just between you (and your x-thousand readers) and me I’d love to be that sassy author, but, sadly, I procrastinate more than ‘do’, and there is a chaos in my head these days (I blame my BC meds but my husband tells me I’ve always been scatty) that makes it difficult to corral those thoughts into something cohesive on a computer screen. But many will attest that my catchcry when asked about my yarn dyeing days is ‘there’s a book in this!’. I expect it will be my epitaph. Sans book. Meanwhile I will simply continue making random jottings in scrappy notebooks….

NH: Tell us a bit about your recent trip to North America - it looked just epic. How long was it in the planning, and what inspired your choice of destination? 

KO: Yes, it was epic. We flew from Melbourne to San Francisco (via Auckland - NZ context!), grabbed a hire car, and drove a loop to Fairbanks (Alaska) and back. I confess to having only a small role in its planning (me: ‘Alaska looks nice’). All credit goes to my husband, who has the curious and seemingly juxtaposed attributes of having indolence down to a fine art on the home front, yet complete mania on road-trips. All roads need to be explored, and a missed side-trip is a missed opportunity. So we travel hard. Sixteen thousand kilometres hard! He finessed the route over a couple of months then all I had to do was sit in the passenger seat and watch the scenery slide by. This was our third road-trip to western USA and Canada. We’re both into vistas and wildlife and getting a good snap or two so western North America, with its stunning landscapes, bears (!), and majestic mountains, ticked all the boxes. And we’re not done yet! It’s a continent that’s also very easy to drive (even if they do drive on the wrong side of the road) because the roads are great, and – unlike Melbourne – the drivers are courteous and considerate. Of course, I love my own country and could never live anywhere else - I’d miss Australia’s noisy wildlife and its own magnificent vistas - but North America makes an excellent travel alternative. Plus I always return with the most awesome boots.

NH: Tell us about your favourite meal - and perhaps if you are willing please share a favourite recipe!

KO: I don’t have one favourite meal so, instead, let me share with you a couple of food-related idiosyncrasies. I love eating from bowls - big bowls - bowls the size of your head. And I love eating from said bowls with Japanese chopsticks. And it doesn’t really matter too much what’s in them. So in the privacy of my own home I might eat a bowl of pasta with chopsticks, or a bowl of salad. Just because. I also like eating with my hands so I love, for example, jamming slices of thin-crusted pizza down my throat, or slathering up the juices of a curry with naan or roti and jamming that down. 

Here’s a recipe for a salad I devised using baked, spiced cauliflower florets (and amenable to a bowl and chopsticks, should you so desire it!):

To prepare the cauliflower: place florets in a baking dish, drizzle with oil, sprinkle with Ras El Hanout (AKA Top of the Shelf spice mix), cover with foil and cook in a warm oven until al dente. 

Once cool-ish, toss florets through mesclun or baby spinach leaves. Add soaked and drained cranberries, sunflower seeds, dollops of cottage cheese, and whatever else is at hand that appeals –sliced firm pear, sliced orange or mandarin, cherry tomatoes. Substitute cubes of feta cheese or fried haloumi for the cottage cheese if you desire. Drizzle with a supermarket-bought balsamic vinegar glaze. Make a meal out of it by adding a poached egg or two, or by tossing through pieces of grilled salmon.

Or if you really want to get down and dirty - à la Miss Click Clack - substitute iceberg or cos/romaine lettuce and make hand-held shooters.

What is one thing about you that might surprise people?

What?! And spoil that book?! You’ll just have to wait 😉

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Kelly is also a prolific knitter of sweaters - including for her lucky sisters, shown here wearing gorgeous versions of Caitlin Hunter’s Zweig and Engle sweaters. Plus, the berets that started it all!

Frances Paki and Sally Graham: Crafting runs in the family

Sally Graham and her daughter, Frances Paki, live close enough for regular quality time together - including knitting, of course! Sally wears her Orkney Cardigan by Marie Wallin, while Frances is sporting the Whitehorse jumper by Caitlin Hunter and a pair of self-drafted trousers.

Auckland’s Frances Paki and her mum, Sally Graham, are two exceedingly inspirational makers. Knitting, sewing, gardening and cooking are all part of their lives - daily habits of creativity and care for themselves and their families. Frances, 34, grew up rural, just south of Auckland and now lives closer to Auckland central with her family, where she works from home doing pattern making and sewing. Her mum, Sally, is 60 and works part-time as a paediatric nurse. Although she grew up on the South Island, she’s lived in and around Auckland most of her adult life, which keeps her close to family (and her darling wee granddaughter). “Part-time is great,” Sally said, “as I have time for knitting, spinning and sewing. I also love gardening and have a small city garden which is crammed full of plants. My next project is to try and get more of a dye garden established.”

We were fortunate enough to get them to sit still long enough to answer some questions for us about their lives, how they incorporate daily creativity into their worlds, and the value they place on making. We’ll start with Frances.

Newtown House: Please tell us how you got started in the fibre arts - did you learn as children, who taught you, and what encouraged you to keep going? 

A selection of Frances’ earliest creations - including a hat she made for Brownies.

Frances Paki: Mum taught me many crafts as a kid. Knitting, sewing, crochet, cross-stitch, tapestry, cooking, gardening - she was always making things for herself, me and my brother, and the home. There were always materials around so it was easy to keep going, and mum was always supportive of projects. I went to manual during form 1 and 2 where I sewed, cooked and did woodwork. I remember finding the sewing and cooking we learnt being relatively straightforward because I did it a lot at home already. Woodwork was fun, and one term I made a huge chair with storage under the seat. I have sewn throughout most of my life but stopped knitting during my mid-late teens and picked it up again in my twenties. I was traveling all the time for work and wanted something to satisfy my making needs while I was away. Now I like to make things for my own family. It is a part of my everyday life.

NH: Tell us about some of your earliest sewing / knitting / crafting memories...and do you still have any of the garments or other treasures you might've made? 

FP: I vividly remember knitting a hat for Brownies when I was 8 or 9. It is an apricot colour. I remember Mum helped with a few rows, as did her sister, Jane, when she came stay while I was making it. I have memories of making many pouches/bags on the sewing machine and a doing a ballet slipper cross-stitch that I was very proud of. I am quite sentimental when it comes to handmade things. I still have the hat and the cross-stitch and a few other treasures made when I was young. 

NH: Why is it important to you to make things for yourselves and your loved ones? Has this become more important over time? If so, why?

FP: There's something very satisfying about wearing something you've made, or seeing someone you love wear something you've made. I think I've always appreciated handmade things but there was a time when I enjoyed shopping more. Making is definitely growing in importance for me as I get older and my family has grown. It's also important for me to make so our daughters learn that it is possible to do so many things yourself and you don't need to always buy it from a shop.

NH: Following on from that, what aspects of your crafts give you the most joy? 

FP: I really enjoy the planning aspect of making. Finding the right pattern for a lovely piece of fabric, looking through my wardrobe and figuring out what I need for the coming season. Knitting has grown in importance for me since I started sewing for a job. I still enjoy sewing but needed something different for my down time and knitting does that. I find it very relaxing and rarely a day goes past when I don't knit.

Frances dyed the rusty colour of Moeke yarn herself, using madder root, to complete this Grandma Shawl by Junko Okamoto.

NH: Tell us about your favourite patterns or styles - and how your choices may have evolved over time. 

FP: The rise of Independent pattern makers is amazing. I remember spending a lot of time in the local fabric shop looking at “Big 4” sewing patterns and that was all I would sew. Now I very rarely sew from them. I also went through a vintage pattern phase. I would find lots of lovely patterns while I was traveling and couldn't help but buy them. I learnt to pattern draft about 15 years ago and since then I have drafted a lot of my own patterns. Some of my favourite pattern designers are Merchant and Mills, Pattern Fantastique and Grainline Studio. I have definitely started sewing more 'basics' - T-shirts, jeans, jackets - in recent years, as opposed to multiple fancy dresses. I think is a reflection of my life changing, both work and personal.

NH: There was a time that skills like sewing, and knitting, and crochet, and cooking, were called "the domestic arts", were taught in schools and were mostly practiced by women in the home. These days such courses are rarely taught in school, and "the domestic arts" can sometimes be seen as less important than other pursuits. I'm guessing you'd reject this trend, and I'd love to hear your thoughts on this! 

FP: It's hard to get a good gauge on this because so many people, mostly women, throughout my life have practiced 'the domestic arts'. It has always been a normal thing to do, and often a part of everyday life. In my life it is almost those who don't make that are in the minority. I have an amazing group of friends who knit, sew, spin, dye. I taught my now 14-year-old step-daughter to sew and knit a few years ago. She still dabbles occasionally, though she enjoys cooking and drawing more. My two-year-old likes to sit in my lap and we knit together with my hands on hers. I will definitely encourage her interest. I think they are important skills to learn - clothing and food are a part of our every day, so it makes sense that we know how to make it it for ourselves.

Next, it’s Sally’s turn!

NH: Please tell us how you got started in the fibre arts - did you learn as children, who taught you, and what encouraged you to keep going? 

Sally Graham: I learnt to knit as quite a young child. I am the eldest of four siblings (two sisters and a brother) - we are all close in age and spent our youngest years on a farm on the South Island. Somehow my mother found time to sew and knit nearly all our clothes - often including matching clothes for our dolls. (All of the dolls’ clothes I still have.) Maybe she taught us to knit and sew at a young age so we could make our own! I do recall making  a few clothes for myself clothes at primary school - I think they probably quite roughly made but I did wear them out places.

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Sally knit this vest from natural dyed yarn she spun and dyed while on a course at Nelson Polytech 40 years ago.

In the 1960s and ‘70s girls still did sewing and cooking at 'manual'  and even though I attended a tiny country school, we went to the 'big smoke' Reefton once a month in the school bus for this, which was great fun (apart from the ghastly windy roads which made me feel carsick)! As a teenager I made many of my own clothes, mainly long dresses and skirts - supplemented by op shop buys. Unbleached calico was my fabric of choice, which I then dyed. In about 1979 i spent a year at Nelson Polytech doing a weaving and spinning course. It was fantastic and I learnt so much. I made so many things, most of which I gave away. Sadly I have not done any weaving since, mainly as I haven't had a loom, however this is something I am keen to try again hopefully soon. I am still spinning - after a lull for several years - and am now enjoying re-discovering natural dyes. [photos]

NH: Tell us about some of your earliest sewing / knitting / crafting memories...and do you still have any of the garments or other treasures you might've made? 

SG: I have quite a few knitted garments from my teenage years - nothing earlier. The vest in the photo was made using the wool I spun and dyed whilst doing the spinning course in Nelson. 

NH: Why is it important to you to make things for yourselves and your loved ones? Has this become more important over time? If so, why? 

SG: As a young mother in the 1980s I automatically sewed and knitted most of my children's clothes - cheap imported clothes were still not widely available and just about everyone I knew made their own. I also made many of my own and my husband’s clothes at this time. It is now so lovely to have some of these garments still around and my granddaughter able to wear them. Because Frances is such an accomplished sewer and knitter, I have not made much for Tiraki. I like to try and knit a little garment to give friends and colleagues at work for their new babies.

NH: Following on from that, what aspects of your crafts give you the most joy?  

SG: I love the anticipation of planning and starting a new project and then when it is completed if it works out how I was hoping it would it is really gratifying. (It's not always the case - and I've had many completed projects that have not just not been right.) I do enjoy knitting for other people although there is always a niggling worry that it won’t be quite 'right’.

NH: Tell us about your favourite patterns or styles - and how your choices may have evolved over time. 

SG: As my children grew up, I made less clothing for them. I became quite obsessed with needlework - particularly cross-stitch and tapestry - and produced cushion covers. (My favourite one is shown in the photo looking very tatty.) I also produced lots of pictures for the wall - many as gifts.  I started an Elizabeth Bradley rug over 20 years ago and have nearly completed it, however I have done nothing to it for over 10 years!! [Photo included] 

A few of Sally’s recent knits, including Kate Davies’ Paper Dolls, Petiteknit’s Balloon Sweater, Marie Wallin’s Orkney cardigan and the Aileas cardigan by Isabell Kraemer.

When Frances started getting into knitting she introduced me to the world of Ravelry and all the wonderful independent knitting pattern makers and yarn dyers. Previously one went to the local wool shop and 'put aside' an approximate amount of wool, which was great as it meant you did not have to buy more than you needed - and more importantly didn't run out! Also I only used to buy wool for the project I was working on and did not have a 'stash' like I do now! Knitting on circular needles was rare - nowadays that is my go-to. However I knitted my fair isle Marie Wallin cardigan on long needles in the traditional way doing back, fronts and sleeves, and it was nice. There seem to be so many techniques for casting on and off, shaping etc that I never knew of previously - it's a lot to learn, thank goodness for YouTube. I love knitting with a lot of detail - I get bored with rows and rows of stocking stitch. I think my favourite is fair isle. I would love to go to the Shetland Islands some day.

NH: There was a time that skills like sewing, and knitting, and crochet, and cooking, were called "the domestic arts", were taught in schools and were mostly practiced by women in the home. These days such courses are rarely taught in school, and "the domestic arts" can sometimes be seen as less important than other pursuits. I'm guessing you'd reject this trend, and I'd love to hear your thoughts on this!  

SG: Like I said at the start I did sewing and cooking at school once a month in form 1 and 2. It was girls only then, and I think boys should definitely have the opportunity to learn these skills - it should be compulsory - especially learning to cook as I get that sewing is not for everyone. I love seeing so many young women (and some men) taking up knitting and sewing. I am so happy that Frances has developed such a passion for knitting and sewing and she now helps me when I can't  figure something out! I am very proud of her, she has a lovely group of friends who get together regularly for knit nights. I think that fibre arts are definitely alive and well.

The gallery below shows a selection of Sally and Frances’ creations, including Frances’ beautiful Tamarack jacket with hand quilting and Sally’s stunning needlepoint.

Karen Templer: Going behind The Fringe Association

Karen Templer

Karen Templer came to knitting as a fully fledged adult, but the craft grabbed her straightaway and has quickly turned into far more than a pastime. If you subscribe to our newsletter, or follow us on Instagram, you’ll know we often refer to Karen’s beautiful website, Fringe Association, for all manner of reasons - because she champions, lives and breathes slow fashion, because she regularly hosts exiting make-alongs that include sewing, knitting and crochet, because she is incredibly generous about everything she’s learned along the way, and because she has a wonderful magpie eye that gathers and takes notice of beauty everywhere. And that’s not to start on the range of wonderful tools she offers in her online shop, Fringe Supply Co - a range that includes the cult-status Fringe Field Bag for taking your needlework outside with you. (Check out the latest edition of the Field Bag, a collaboration with print artist Jen Hewett, if you're curious.)

One of Karen’s initiatives is the #Summer of Basics, in which she encourages makers to think about stocking their wardrobe with three basic pieces over the three (Northern Hemisphere) summer months of June, July and August. Here in the Antipodes, though, we see no reason why we can’t hop on this delightful bandwagon. It may be winter, but there are still basics that are required! Jumpers, merino tops, trousers, warm skirts, socks, beanies - the list goes on and on. (Here's: more about the SoB.) Here's what's happened on our own #SummerofBasicsAntipodesStyle,

This is a long way of saying we’ve been long-distance fans of Karen for a long time, so we were thrilled when she said yes to a wee interview. Enjoy.

How did you come to start Fringe Association? What was the journey that brought you to opening up the shop, and starting the website?

I learned to knit in October 2011, when I was living in Berkeley and working the tech world in San Francisco. I was taught by friends while we were visiting Nashville, and thought they were the only people I knew who knitted. So I started the blog, which came to be known as Fringe Association, two months later, and it was a way to keep in touch with them and document this incredible new addiction and hopefully make some knitting friends. I pretty quickly started brainstorming (read: fantasising) about the yarn store of my dreams, which didn’t seem to exist in the real world, and in the course of all that imagining came the idea for the webshop, Fringe Supply Co, which launched as an online pop-up shop for the holidays in 2012.

How has your thinking evolved over the last five-plus years you've been in business?

In too many ways to begin to articulate! My thinking evolves every single day — about what I’m doing and why, what kind of business I want Fringe to be, what kinds of clothes I want to make for myself. Blogging and owning a small business are both a nonstop growth experience.

Do you think people are growing in their understanding of slow fashion, and the need to consider how their clothes are made, and to consider making their own? Are you starting to see evidence of a shift?

Absolutely, yes. When I first started knitting, which got me interested in sewing again (not having done so for a few years), there was definitely a conversation happening among a lot of really thoughtful, tuned-in people, but you had to sort of pick up on it and tune in yourself. Maybe it’s just because of the community I’ve embedded myself in, but now I feel like it would be very difficult to be a DIY clothes-maker, on the Internet in any way, and not be exposed to the issues and concerns at hand.

And beyond the DIY community, there are so many more brands (or sub-brands) being formed around slow fashion and sustainability, discussions happening in magazines and on public radio, and so on. I get catalogs in my mailbox now from sustainable-fashion companies, and that was not happening even five years ago. I’ve even read articles about the demise of high-street fashion brands wherein the journalist will cite a rise in consumer awareness and demand for transparency as among the many reasons a fast-fashion brand might be struggling. It’s definitely gaining so much traction and being amplified all over the place.

What surprises you about your business, and about the kind of responses you get to your work on the website?

I remember seeing Kellie Pickler, former American Idol runner-up at the time, guest-hosting on The View one day (several years ago) and when she came out onto the stage and the crowd cheered, she mused out loud, mostly to herself, “Crazy to think people find ya interesting.” And I think of that a lot. It’s pretty amazing to have people show up every day wondering what you’re thinking about or making or selling. I take it really, really seriously, especially with the shop. I never want to sell anyone anything they don’t find beautiful or useful, or that’s disappointing in any way, so I am incredibly choosy and have extremely high standards, because it’s a pretty astonishing thing to have people have that kind of trust in you.

Like many of your regular readers, I was riveted by the discussion of gansey sweaters [link: https://fringeassociation.com/2018/04/17/what-i-know-about-gansey-origins-with-deb-gillanders/] on the blog recently - why do you think stories like that strike such a chord with people? 

I just think we’re all so disconnected from everything — we’ve collectively lost our sense of history and origins, and we outsource everything. We live in a world where we don’t know where our food comes from, how our clothes are made, how to fix anything for ourselves (be it engine trouble or a hole in a sock). When you knit, you’re not only taking back the making of your sweaters or whatever, knowing at least where these things come from, you also kind of can’t help but be aware of the fact that you’re participating in this incredibly long tradition, this thing that has been passed along from one knitter to another for centuries, being improved upon and reimagined all along the way. And then when you find out there’s also this whole other level of history to it — that types of sweaters or mittens or stitch patterns or techniques aren’t random; they come from specific people and places and have evolved or been lost in whatever ways — it just adds a whole extra level of fascination and connection to what you’re doing. A sweater you’ve seen all your life and never thought anything about suddenly has all these layers of history and meaning.

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One of Karen's many brilliant tricks is to document her seasonal wardrobes, both as a way to spot gaps that might need filling and to pull together new looks for the months ahead.

Some people might look at your website and wonder, why is it important for people to chronicle their own journeys on the slow fashion road, and in such detail? And why does it resonate with people? (I know the answer I'd give if asked, but I'm curious to hear yours.)

I’d actually love hear your answer! I enjoy documenting things — whether it’s how I shaped a raglan or how my thinking about my closet was shaped — and I enjoy reading how other people document what they do. I learn from other people’s triumphs and mistakes and points of view, and I hope people can take something away from mine. I don’t always know what I think (or what I think I think) until I’ve written it down and had it challenged by someone else. It’s all part of the growth experience!

How do you keep yourself motivated and organised - you have the same 24 hours as all of us, but you do seem to accomplish quite a lot in your days and weeks!

Oh, gosh. I have at least two full-time jobs, right?, and the only way I know to do them is to do them — to just keep going! People ask me all the time how I manage to write a blog post every weekday and my answer is that if I didn’t do it every day — like showering and eating and breathing — I wouldn’t be able to do it at all. It just has to be part of my routine. And I know it does seem like I get a lot done, and I do — by necessity — but what I see from where I sit is all of the things that don’t get done every day, because every single to-do list is inherently insurmountable. But that’s just the nature of owning a small business. You have to be willing to show up every day knowing your to-do list is going to beat you, but that you’ll be back again tomorrow giving it your all! I mean, you basically have to be a crazy person — a highly organised crazy person — which I apparently am.

What would people be surprised to know about you?

That I know anything about Kellie Pickler or The View? I don’t know — I’m a polymath and a reasonably complex individual, but on the Internet I think I might appear to be just some lady who is obsessed with clothes. In real life, I’ll talk to you about books, current events, religion, gardening, pop culture. Would people be surprised to know I’m more interesting than I appear? lol

What's your absolute favourite garment in your closet? And what are you most looking forward to making next?

Generally my favourite thing in my closet is whatever I finished most recently, so right at this moment it is the Elizabeth Suzann half-finished sample-sale jacket I just turned into the best vest imaginable. And what I’m most looking forward to is whatever is in the pipeline that is the most challenging, or makes me the most nervous. For Summer of Basics this year, I think I’m going to make a pair of proper pyjamas — you know, with the piping and everything? Maybe even in a slippery fabric! And I’m pretty nervous and excited about all of that.

Thanks, Karen - we really appreciated your generosity and can't wait to see how your #SummerofBasics projects turn out! All photos by Karen Templer.

A notebook like Karen's can be invaluable if you're wanting to document, and plan, your wardrobe.