Theoretical Cupcakes

Soda can pop tabs

Broken jewelry chains

A month or so of used Sweet-n-Low wrappers

Found rust pieces

Old typewriter keys

Thread ends from a month of sewing

Kimono My House: Recycled Kimono Couture

Every decade or so, I get suckered into buying a kimono. I think it is going to look elegant and flowing and beautiful and I will lounge around looking elegant and flowing and beautiful. It turns out that there is absolutely no activity in my life for which a kimono would be the proper attire, including lounging around. Thus the recycled kimono couture. This one is called "Geisha in Paris."

This was a lovely black kimono with white silk lining. I took fabric off the length and panelled it into a frontpiece, creating a sort of '40s-look kimono blouse.

Close-up of front panelling

Kimono waving

What really makes this blouse is the two buttons up near the neckline. Knowing my passion for buttons, my friend Chris got these for me in an antique shop in Paris. They are little scenes of Paris on paper behind plastic domes, and they're quite fragile, so they are removable when and if I ever wash the kimono.

Button one. Can't get a really good picture because the plastic reflects light causing glare.

Button two. Note the hand-stitched button holes.

Au revoir—I'm off to eat sushi and will try not to dribble wasabi on my blouse.

Wackola Walker

You may be hitting the skids, but you can always hit them in style. Instead of whining, wield your walker proudly and go raging into the night. When I broke my knee a while back, I endured the humiliation of having to use a walker until I decoupaged the hospital-gray piece of hardware.

In retrospect, I wish I had added a horn.

Rice is Nice: Emergency Survival Earrings

Ingredients: Old watch casings; the graphics from a chopstick wrapper showing how to use chopsticks; spoon charms; and some dangles salvaged from old jewelry. In an emergency, smash the watch face and eat the rice.

Unlikely Shelves

Everything has got to go somewhere, which is why I started using unlikely objects as shelves. Two examples are offered below.

A rusted old toy typewriter serves as a wall shelf for a couple of my pimped-out eyeglasses.

A weathered vintage children's chair, hooked over two nails on the wall, serves as a catch-all shelf.

Barbie Hits the Road

 

A necklace made from severed Barbie parts, little silver spirit boxes from Thailand (originally made to hold religious charms or relics), paper images, assorted chains, and genuine rubble from the 1989 San Francisco earthquake. 

From left, clockwise: Barbie on the beach; Barbie hits the road (that's a Barbie foot, severed at the ankle with the raw cut painted gold, viewed from above); and Barbie in the '89 quake, stepping over genuine earthquake rubble.