I went to the Bust magazine Christmas Craftacular on Sunday. It was a big, festive craft fair in Bethnal Green's York Hall full of independent crafters, top choons and DIY workshops. It was busy and jolly and full of beautiful things. It was generally lovely but... it turns out shopping events aren't much fun when there is no possibility of shopping. I purposefully didn't take any money with me because I knew that I couldn't spend any and I didn't want to be tempted. This seemed sensible until I arrived and saw all the niceness. I mean, I guess it was still sensible since I can't really afford frivolous crafty loveliness but it felt rubbish. I've often been shopping and not bought anything but there is normally at least the possibility of buying something and this time there wasn't and it rather sucked the fun out of the whole enterprise. I'm worried that this makes me disgustingly materialistic and unable to enjoy myself without consuming products and spending money like a filthy cog in the capitalist machine... Or maybe it is just difficult to enjoy events where you know you can't take part in the event? Like how you would miss out on the fun of a pool party if you couldn't swim. I'm hoping it is the latter because the former is hardly very flattering. Do you know what I'm talking about? I wonder if it is just me.
The positive thing I took away from the craft fair was a bunch of new makers, artists and designers that I might not otherwise have discovered. Perhaps I was just viewing it from the wrong perspective. I'm planning to share a couple of my new fancies over the next few days/weeks. The first of these is Cleo Ferin Mercury, purveyors of printed scarves, collars and handkerchiefs. All of Cleo and Chris's prints are great and their animal scarves are hilarious but my heart beats for their 100% silk icon scarves. Beyoncé? Brigitte? Liz as Cleo? Love! The Liz Taylor scarf would go very well with Topshop SS12 but I think Brigitte would be my first choice. So sweet and innocent - all sixties and South of France...
And, ultimately, it doesn't matter that I can't afford them. I'm glad I got to admire and fondle them. I'm glad I know they are out there and being awesome. I know that somebody will be enjoying them and they will be leading merry lives. I don't need to buy them. I don't think.