Wednesday, January 2, 2013


I gravitate toward 'low hanging fruit' when I have lots to do but nothing really pressing.  I find myself in my shop "fixing" things that are already in place.  It's a huge waste of time.  It's one of the many cons of having a huge number of listings.  So many of them have terrible photos or weird descriptions that I find myself in there spending time on things that don't truly need my attention, but are very easy and straightforward in their needs.

I began listing things this evening, and I somehow found myself strolling through my inactive listings. I won't even tell you how many there were--lots are deleted now though.  But there was a ton of stuff I have no memory of ever having listed. This cuff bracelet, for example:

I really had no idea it was ever listed.

But here it is, with terrible photos and terrible, nonsensical color.

Seeing it like this, I remember having dip dyed it and feeling like it was properly processed.

This cuff was something I got back many months ago from Fall Hill Bead and Gem, where I have some things on consignment.  I traded in some new things for old things.  I stuffed all the old non-sellers away to deal with later, and I recently dealed with this cuff.  I used Rit color remover--soaked it for about 24 hours.

 It came out kind of a tan orange--really nondescript.  I soaked it in some Rit green for an hour or so to counteract the orange hoping for a colorless grey, then held it under the water and wrung it out, so it would be like a fadey color wash.  It was still too green, so I soaked it in water hoping it would get faded a little, or maybe just get a flood vibe. I felt like using the color remover again would be a step too far.  I've been on that stoop many times.
It dried okay, but then I slathered it with wax and it seemed melded and properly processed finally.  There's a sense of old faded velvet about it that I like.

The whole cuff transformation thing is making consider the notion of 'processing.'  Sounds abstract and cliche, doesn't it?  What I mean is: how the processing *itself*--the time it takes, the elements it meets, the transformations, the wear, the forgetting about, the remembering, the repeating of things--is integral to the creating.  It's like a cheat sheet of time and wear.  There's something that strikes me as unholy about it, and that's kind of its appeal in a way.  Because it's just so fashionable to have things that are described as: unprocessed, raw, natural, organic, clean.  You truly have to scrap all of those ideas in trying to  give something a sense of authenticity, even if trying to incorporate those very ideals in.  It's a paradox.

I realized this when I was writing a description for some altered hemp in my supply shop.  Here's what I wrote:

The hemp started out as plain brown, good quality commercial stringing hemp. To alter it, I used color remover, then a wash of brown dye, giving it a golden brown tone; next, I sprayed it randomly with black fabric dye while it was still wet, giving it a mottled, dimensional, and age worn look. The wet treatments remove any traces of wax or binding agents used in the stringing hemp, giving it a rougher, raw appearance; however, it is still strong and soft to the touch.

It sounds nutty to describe the process.  I pretty much tried to undo all its doing. Of course it all makes sense in context.  I guess deconstructing the whole thing is pointless.

Anyway...I have tons more destash and curated strands up in my supply shop.  I'm starting to sell at a fair clip, and it's a nice surprise.  I really had the idea that it would be nothing but tumbleweeds like my vintage shop, which sometimes gets 2 views a day.  I'm just going to let everything expire and close the thing up.

I also have some new jewelry listed and some ready to be listed:

These below are my favorite.  They're so Star Treky I may have to keep them. Time will tell.