You don't get sweeter than strawberry bonbons, pink net, and soft ostrich leather (Hong Kong acquired offcut from Dior!).
I enjoyed making these limited pieces, yes I did, and they hit the craft stall ready to choose, soon.
But there exists that ugly, unruly, submerged part of my id. You know the one. The one who cannot pass a Cath Kidston shop without wanting to smash the windows in. (The id is a monstrous weight for my super-ego, I can tell you.)
The snarling id wants it all un-cute, un-nice, un-neat, un-wise with a dagger in the binding and a twist at the heart. It may start off by rolling its cruel, ungenerous eye to steampunk, goth, cult and fetish interests.
But wouldn't this be a very English thing to do? Imagine me in my Laura Ashley elasticated-waist skirt stitching crafted books for the fisting brigade.
Here, have a far more nuanced, truer, wiser and perceptive analysis of the Kidston brand than I will ever dredge up from my id before I can calm it down with a nice cup of tea.
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