Sunday

Design inspirations: privacy

The first, the last, the alpha, the omega, the reason the book came to be, Lo and Behold, the Knicker Drawer Note Books.

Privacy, modesty, a moment to hold back that blabbing mouth before it splashes every public place with ne'er a thought to a wiser inhibition, we all need, at times, a Knicker Drawer Note Book.

And privacy is riven through every book I make. The tie or ribbon that binds the book? If you pull that ribbon and this is your book, this moment should be a lovely anticipation and delight.

But if it's not your book? The ribbon is a marker. The pulling of that ribbon will be a violation. Once those covers are unwrapped, you will know if a violation has occured! The ribbon will be out of place, the pages arranged differently, the folds, nets, fabrics, not in the order only you have come to know, for the combination of how you wrap the net, secure the felt, and fold the paper is the secure lock of your book, kept in your mind.




Your book is your private space. Keep your privates, private.

Design inspirations: the sensory, tactile book

Every Knicker Drawer Note Book must meet your fingers as well as your eyes. I want that cover and those pages to reach you with catches, frictions, resistances, smooth-as-skin touch. Small chimes, shells, bells, stones, glass and wax papers will creak, tap, and rustle your approach to these pages. Your fragrance you bring from your touch.



Saturday

Design inspirations: history

At the moment, the Victorians.

But I have had a passion for the Medievals. If we're speaking specifically, the Plantagenets. Okay, now you're pressing me, 1464.

Sometimes, I think I might live in a different age. While I remain here, at some unspecified date in the tweny-first century, I do the day job I have, before I return to real life.

Of course I like to imagine real life is composed of floating about in a fire-warmed castle room hung with fine tapestries and delicate embroideries ordering the next goblet of wine just in from France.

It's probably not. I bet when I get there I'm covered in plague boils, have a weekday cleaning job in the local cess pit and spend my Saturday market mornings feebly trying to barter a squirrel carcass for a bag of rats.

Anyway, it inspires me, this history thing, or the present day, depending on your perspective, here with those beautiful books of hours, tapestries, Petrarchian song and dancery, troubadours, garters, a spot of romantic chivalry, a few blood and guts, and fancy tights.




Thursday

Steampunk ahead




Busy making books for Knicker Drawer's stall at the Asylum, Lincoln, Monday 31st, Church Hall.