Book for the Angel Hunter

Note book for the Angel Hunter. A safe place to wrap your Angel Blaster and Fallen Angel Detector. Book wrap combines suede and leather.

Stitches change in tension - slipping and tightening - a natural consequence when your book passes through the Transference Field several times an hour.

When angels fall, they fall quickly and in bulk. Pockets, tucks, nets and folds thus trap and enclose lost feathers and broken angel breath.

Bottle contains Angel Temptation Seeds. Use sparingly, as overuse causes Fracturing of Earth Covering and can be fatal to minor angels unaccustomed to potent aromas.

Book is ready to fill with your lists and doodles while awaiting calls on your Angel Hotline; your hand-drawn maps of Angelic Territories; photographs and snapshots of Lost (and found) Angels; poetry designed to sooth the particularly aggressive Angelic Ferocious, plus all your collections of Angelic Memorabilia.

Only one available, at Number 38, Vintage Emporium.


Thank you to the Knicker Drawers Collective

Thank you to the lovely people who came to say Hello at Stall 13 at the Vintage and Handmade Weekend, Central Milton Keynes, 5-6 November '17.

You told me stories of your who-you-are, showed me your amazing books, and told me how you're going to note, draw, doodle, stitch, pin, glue, tear, bend, stain, and happily trash your note book.

If you have a Knicker Drawer Book for the sea, take it to the shore and get it wet. If you have a book for the woods, scatter it with earth and bind it with leaves. And if you have a Knicker Drawer Note Book for your soul, then fill it with the breathings of your heart.



November. Month of shadows and veils; the month of half-light, a slipping of time; the month was made for glances, glimpses of knowledges, half revealed, half concealed; fictions and truths, darkness and light. This month was made for story. Choose a book for November.

On sale at Number 38 Vintage Emporium, and the weekend of 4/5 November 2017 at the Handmade and Vintage show in Central Milton Keynes.


Dragons, owls, green

Book with pockets, folds, tucks and secret places to locate objects, notes, and scraps; green leaf stitch flows through selected pages, and layers invite the snatch of feather. Beware! The dragon trapped inside breathes fire! Sketch paper, note paper, hand-twisted natural dyed felt, hand-marbled paper, buckle and cog. Everything here, except the owner's hand, brushing those pages.


Stop everything

The colour red
passion drama love taking sides revolutions anger life blood heat strength stop decide make way
for here comes a Woman

Books in October designed and stitched for power and passion. Thank you to Alex and Annette for the inspiration.


We are outlived by our things

Imagine a world where the ephemera of a life is stored on a phone. Where tickets are bought and sold, receipts issued, and notes made. Where your phone becomes the hold-all of your casual jottings, shopping memos, greetings, photos, to-do lists, memos to self, billet-doux and doodles. There are the to-ings and fro-ings which made up your day.

Where is your history then? Where are the records of a life? When the phone is discarded, or the rules of access change? Where data is withheld or destroyed when a payment is missed?

Where do you go to find the shadows of a life? The ephemera that told a story? And how do those who come after us tie objects to a place and time without the written record that explains them?

We each need to hold on to ephemera: to collect ourselves, to let others know, through these things we collate and amass; to leave behind, touchable, real snatches of ourselves, to say, we were here.

Then we each need a place for privacy. In quiet moments we should formulate, think, dwell, and muse; judge and weigh our thoughts. Moments of sorrow, healing, loss, grief, love, spiritual journeying can be made public later, but not now, not for an audience hungry for spectacle and performance played to a pre-set narrative.

Our thoughts should be ours. We each need to own ourselves; to preserve what makes our lives. To live away from the digital world and know ourselves outside a digital crowd: we need an antidote to an intangible world conjured by Facebook, Twitter, and the digitised swirl of social media.

We are humans. We need to collect. Impulsively we want objects with real things touching our fingertips. We need a place for collecting the tiniest things. To make a frame which confers on our unique collations a new context and strange beauty. A place which speaks to others, when we are gone: here was purpose, value, and a beautiful flowering of wonder.

Here is an antidote to Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and the digital world.

Copy as sent to Woman's Hour BBC Radio 4, plus book, based about the theme of fond remembrance, possibly sent in response to an interviewer/ee saying something along the lines of 'is there an app for that?'

We women are tradition bearers, life breathers, culture handlers, mother speakers. We are beyond apps.