Cutting ties. Notching forward.

You know those crossroads in life, the ones that you never saw coming, the ones that take the oxygen and every soul of your being from you?

That was me.

A shell. No beat. No colour. Soulless.

It was not my decision to stop creating, cease making, halt being the real me, it was unforeseen and unfortunately thrust upon me. Stolen soul, yanked, pushed, an undisclosed quicksand nosedive. How did I disappear, how did I dissolve, how was my rainbow interrupted?

Fabricated facade, notches, snips of a sketched-up life, sliced and slashed to a cut up jagged pattern. Is my agony visible? Does it have colour? Am I blood red? Is my pain showable?

The marvel about creativity is its visibility, ocular, in your face irrefutable existence. Was I ever seeable, was I ever glimpsed, was I ever a pantone shade?

A constructed life, a constructed wife, a toile that didn’t fit. Bin scraps, off cuts, threads of a harpooned puppet.

Cut, nicked, divided in two.

Who am I? I feel numb, I feel more invisible.

---

Two stitches forward, one stitch back. Do rainbows really exist?

Concept planning, motive making, markings of a shape.

Beginner sewing, wavy edge, micro zig zag forward cutting.

Piecing, patching, darning holes, basting to the mend.

Originating, reinventing, constructing a new me.

Forming, shaping, blocking, I am seeing shades of grey.

Non-stick, serrated innovation, deckle edge attack.

Two hands, easy grip, originating progress.

Bias stretch, pliable, all-purpose pigment.

Designer tinge, sparkle undertone, razor edge perfection.

Stencilled smile, embroidered grace, DIY design.

Festooned feelings, proficient wings, corrugated flicker.

Muted glow, luminous glitter, acute candescence.

Blanket stitch, sealed seams, overlocked heart.

Seeing colour, feeling bright, rendering my craft.

Inspiration, hat block foundations, moulding a new life.

Making progress, finding me, remembering my skill.

Using tools, reinventing, creating a couture life.

Playing with materials, loving every minute, the rainbow of my being.

Blocking straw, steaming felt, manicuring feathers.

Tall crown, wide brim, structured silhouettes.

Beaded bliss, trimmed petals, flower formations.

Vintage veiling, dye dipped, crinoline rejoice.

Swiss braid, wire framed, raffia woven dreams.

Finding me, acquiring colour, striking it sunny.

Glowing heart, grateful craft, knowing who I am.

Illuminated soul, being noticed, promised forward notches.

Being true, being master, skilful dexterity.

Finding I, shining bright, sharing that with others.

Making hats, sewing forward, reinstated passion.

Original creation, designer life, loved up Milliner me.

Dazzling shine, beaming colour, I found my pot of gold.

Wish chip rainbows, being seen, beaming unicorn colour.

Truly grateful, creative rescue, amplified thanks.

Dandelion dancing dreams, brimming with success.

Saved.

Found.

Millinery life.

---

In the past 25 years I have been a Milliner, I have always found designing hats to be a constant, rewarding and soul fulfilling creative journey. It challenges me, scares me, frustrates me and even makes me cry. But that is the creative process, it is never smooth, it can be stressful and sometimes I just want to give up. Life can be the same.

I don’t always know how a new hat design will turn out and the materials don’t always construct the way I want them to. I equate designing to the obstacles of life.

Losing me and piecing back my creative passion has by far been my greatest design. The complete sense of fulfilment and happiness I feel when I am sewing hats, feeling inspired and making something out of nothing is truly an absolute blessing.

Millinery ignites a fire in my belly, the more I make, the more I crave to make, one life will never be enough time.

Hat making = Happiness

Titanium Happiness xx