Keep This Coupon

Ever get one of those ticket stubs that says, "Keep this coupon"? Do you keep the coupon? I do. In fact, I see this as a direct order from unknown uber-authorities. To preserve my coupons in perpetuity, I sometimes turn them into jewelry.

Pin made from old tin can lid, paper coupon, pop-top tabs, and a hand-carved tramp art wooden pig.

Rubble Blues

An abstract pin assembled from bits of rubble and broken jewelry picked up here and there, combined with a penny flattened on the railroad tracks.

La Chair (if you dare)

Here is a high-threat chair that absolutely none of my visitors want to sit in. A flea market score for $20, this was a hospital scale used for weighing patients who can't stand up. I replaced the vomit-beige upholstery (so common in hospital decor) with light green vinyl. The scale still works. Have a seat—I dare you.

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.