There's a Sunday morning ritual that's beginning to take shape for me and a couple of friends: we go to church. Church being the flea market, and bearing this name due to one of said friends once stopping in the middle of the crowd to declaim: "This is my church. This is where I heal my hurts" (reference to this song). And indeed, retail therapy in sparkly malls is nothing compared to the colourful mob, animated bartering, pretty, weird or downright creepy finds, food smells and the general noise that reminds me of a medieval market. For me, the highlight of the market are "The Swedes". They are just usual gipsies, in wide-brimmed hats, bushy moustaches and incredibly loud mouths, but who bring very very pretty fabrics from Sweden. They are my best friends and my worst enemies. Both for the same reason: look, just look at all the pretty, colourful, tempting fabrics! I'm hopelessly and invariably attracted towards their spot in the middle of the market. And I buy a lot of stuff. Stuff I will need about 20 years to use entirely, but which I keep adding to. Every Sunday. It heals my hurts.
At least I used one of the latest fabric finds in its entirety, as a backing for this throw/blanket thingy. Some of you NZ-ers will recognize this instantly: yup, Warwick fabric samples, hihi. A very nice addition to the colour scheme in my room.
It's big enough and warm enough to snuggle under while watching movies. It seems I didn't take a pic of the backing, but it's fluffy, warm and burgundy, something between polar fleece and velour.
In other news today... some people pimp their rides, I pimp my sewing machine. And the sexy beast deserves it, as that's exactly what she does: she rulez!