Stash Ahoy

Here are some of my London purchases.  How resolutely I’ve signed up for stashbustalongs  –  I was sincere at the time, honestly.

First two, a patterned rayon/cotton mix which just looked so good next to the plain, a heavier fabric with a soft, suede like surface, but still drape-able. Obviously, I couldn’t pass these up.

Then a patterned linen just because it was cheerful.

And three plains, the red and black are jerseys, the white a woven.Finding a place to stash them, I came across the stash I’d forgotten about, the holiday stash, the stash of all fabrics not fitted in suitcases on previous trips. Here’s some of it.

I didn’t venture further afield this time, no Goldhawk Rd, no Shaukat, of course not bank busting Joel and Sons, not even budget Petticoat Lane market  or Walthamstow. First sniff of the local fabrics and I had a casefull. Strictly speaking, rather more than would fill the case I brought with me. I had to swap it for a larger one left in the flat by a daughter, and then spill over into the emergency huge cloth bag, hastily run up to ryanair’s carry on luggage dimensions during a previous fabric emergency.

The case is distinctively styled, wouldn’t you say?   Not easy to mistake when it trundles along a luggage carousel. The runt of the case designer’s oeuvre.  Hopefully, one of a kind.

Which makes it all the more strange that it got unloaded from the TGV by mistake, by another passenger, three stops from my home. I didn’t see it go. I was sitting on the opposite side from the platform, hemmed in by a woman engrossed in a film. As we pulled away the guard’s voice  penetrated the befuddlement of twenty hours of bus, coach, ferry, taxi,  TER train, TGVtrain. He advanced down the carriage mumbling something about a suitcase and a group party, and yes, quite possibly a French stab at pronouncing my name. No-one else was admitting to a giraffe coloured suitcase. I waved. C’est moi. Bloody hell. Twenty hours of shoulder wrenching and secret gloating about the contents and it was sitting forlorn and unloved on a windy platform sixty miles from home.

I have it now. SNCF put it on the next train and three hours later I was sheepishly unpacking the spoils. But how anyone could mistakenly unload the giraffe case ? Must have been a nut case. I rest my er  ……….. case.

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About jay

I design and draft patterns
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4 Responses to Stash Ahoy

  1. prttynpnk says:

    First of, i love your stash- gorgeous! I’m also amazed that a giraffe took a ride! I have turquise cheetah print Betsey Johnson luggage just because I knew I’d never miss it- ok, I’m really shallow, too, so I guess I have it for that reason too, but still! Who mistakes giraffe luggage for their own?

    Like

  2. Pella says:

    Hah! So there’s a secret connection between animal suitcases and fabric stashers!

    Like

  3. Couldn’t agree more about the haul. NIce job, even if you did have to ‘fight’ for it on the way home. BTW did you give the case back or keep it? 🙂

    Like

  4. Pella says:

    Oh I couldn’t part with it, its one of a kind.

    Like

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