Showing posts with label cracker toys. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cracker toys. Show all posts

Saturday, 5 November 2011

Treasure hunt

The cover of Matrix journal -- issue containing Olive Cook's biographical essay on Tirzah Garwood
 Lesley's wonderful post, Pattern and Design, from earlier this week, has got me blogging again after a bit of a fallow period. "Don't worry too much about what you blog about," I told myself (since my head was full of starting places but not much idea about where to go), "just do it."
     First of all, I needed a link to Lesley's post, so the easiest thing was just to Google her blog. I never even made it there! Googling 'Printed Material', I saw 'How to print on fabric with an inkjet printer'. I had to have a quick look at this -- once again it goes back to Lesley, because a while back she very kindly made me up a 'starter kit' for doing just this and told me how to do it. Have I had a go? No, I have not, much to my chagrin.
     However, as I was reading this post, I was reminded of one of the reasons why I haven't yet had a go -- the risk of terminally messing up your printer. I've just got a new printer so am even more nervous about sticking fabric into its temperamental maw.
screen grab from Spoonflower.com
     It was then that I spotted, in the comments underneath the post, references to www.spoonflower.com. Wow, they will print your own fabric design for you! No ruined printer and you're not limited to A4-sized sheets. This is something I'll have to bookmark and come back to.
Saturday Book emblem from the endpapers of SB no. 7
     All this was already 'off piste' as I had initially intended to go down quite a different route. The initial trail from Lesley's post had led me to the St Jude's blog, All Things Considered, and, from there to writer Olive Cook and her husband, photographer Edwin Smith, who were regular contributors to the Saturday Book, precursor of miscellanies such as Granta and which ran from 1941 to 1975. It happens that I have just brought a carrier bag full of Saturday Books back from my dad's where I'm keeping (and intermittently forgetting all about) a mountain of old books which are currently 'hidden' behind his spare-room sofa. I thought I'd have a look through this bag of books for some delectable things to blog about.
 Actually, the Saturday Books I've got are not as delectable as I imagined, being rather inky and serious miscellanies of poems and essays which haven't stood the test of time too well. But in my random selection I did find a madly eclectic selection of Christmas-related objects collected together by Cook and Smith (SB no. 13), which included these rather tenuously Christmas orange wrappers (to be enjoyed on Boxing Day):
and these very desirable cracker toys:
In Saturday Book no. 16, Cook and Smith -- weirdly -- tell the story of Bluebeard through 'bits and pieces'. This was in 1956, and the exercise, which is really quite off-kilter, seems to straddle the Victorian and modern sensibilities and, in this respect, to stand for a lot of cultural activity in that era. Here are a few snippets from Bluebeard in Bits and Pieces:
Finally, my Olive Cook meanderings took me to her biographical essay on the artist Tirzah Garwood, wife of Eric Ravilious and whose talent was possibly eclipsed by her husband's, and who also found it difficult to juggle being an artist with the roles of mother and wife (sigh). You can read it here, on the excellent Weeping Ash website.
The Train Journey, c. 1939 by Tirzah Garwood
And there my web treasure hunt stopped, for now, as it had taken up the best part of a day!

Friday, 10 June 2011

Mini collection 18

cracker toy dogs
I'll have to get back to doing some proper posts soon! Or as well... It's becoming something of a personal challenge to keep this going. Still, it's Postman's Knock this weekend so there will be proper stuff flying around.

Monday, 6 June 2011

Mini collection 14

A very minimal collection today -- just three cracker-toy roulette wheels. The smallest one is about the size of a 2p piece. They all spin.

Saturday, 25 September 2010

Plastic people

After the miniature postcard people in the last post, I'm turning my attention to another set of figures -- tiny plastic personages.

Green around the gills ... this sailor is 1cm high
Over the years I've collected quite a lot of little coloured figurines, mainly from crackers. Blue seems to be the most popular colour:

The largest of these -- the elf drummer on the left -- is 4cm high. The smallest are about 1cm high.

I love the sporty cats:


What completely blows my mind about all these figures is the process involved in making them. People presumably went to art or technical college, learned design skills and also about the manufacturing methods. Then they got jobs in designing these characters, moulds had to be made, colours chosen, production lines set up with machines turning out thousands of each, and yet they are utterly pointless and inconsequential. They exist in the world more or less meaninglessly, functionlessly, but they are made nonetheless. And made with detail, with humour, with tenderness.

lovely shades of green

The baby is 1cm high with a little pot belly and a solemn expression:

totemic
I feel that, by loving these creatures with their roughly extruded bodies, their leaked flaps of extraneous plastic flesh, I've given a little bit of meaning to the process of making them, which, otherwise, would somehow exemplify the monstrous excess of the global economic system.
That sounds silly, and of course it's meant to, but I still kind of mean it.

I'll be your dog (1.5cm high)