In no particular order...

The nymph-like Audrey Hepburn has long brought joy to my life, being especially fond of Sabrina. Why Sabrina? Probably because I have this ridiculous, unexplained thing for France and hopes of one day floating off for an extended stay, only to return worldly and sophisticated. Sabrina writes home to her doting, chauffeur father with Le Vie en Rose playing like a dream in the background. Le Vie en Rose just so happens to be a favorite song of mine, easily in my top ten, so when a movie came out about the singer's life, I immediately saw it. I was thus introduced to Marion Cotillard via her haunting performance of Edith Piaf's unfortunate existence. Stunning. I've been nursing quite the girl-crush on her since, which led me to silly things like spending Christmas Day with my mom in the theater watching Nine or picking up the July issue of Vogue last night. While reading the feature article, I decided we were kindred spirits for three reasons: one) she keeps Polaroid film in her fridge, and I respect anyone with nonfood items in their fridge; two) she has a large hat collection, and so do I (my vintage darlings); and three) she offhandedly mentioned a love for artist Alberto Giacometti. Shut your mouth, Marion Cotillard! I adore Giacometti! He is my favorite, favorite, favorite, though not for his sculptures, but his paintings. The poster pictured above, Diego a La Chemise Ecossaise, is hanging in my apartment, and while some find it startling and possibly unsettling in a bedroom setting, I often get lost in it for lengthy bouts of time. What does this all mean? Absolutely nothing, but I wanted to share.


Project 5: Circular Brick Stitch Cuff - Part 2

The amount I love this cuff is downright dizzying. I may have to wear it every day for the next two weeks. Really, it's as simple as that.


Project 5: Circular Brick Stitch Cuff - Part 1

A new project is well underway and ready for posting. Trips to the beading store always spark fresh ideas or reminders of old ones, and a beading extravaganza last week proved to be no exception. This time around, I've decided to break it down in a how to format, just in case anyone else wanted to learn to do a circular brick stitch.

The circular brick stitch is wonderful with truly endless possibilities. These little gems can be used to embellish anything from shoes to headbands and everything in between. I have created a slew of them for a cuff... more on that in Part 2, of course.

On to the how to!

Step 1: Thread your beading needle (the most tedious part, if you ask me) with a colored thread complimenting your beads. You will see the thread in the finished product, so it's something to keep in mind.

Step 2: String your thread through your center bead and then back through again, wrapping your thread around it.

Step 3: String your thread through your center bead and back through once more, leaving another loop around it.

Step 4: To start your row, string two beads. Every row will start with two.

Step 5: With your needle, "hook" your thread underneath the loop you created around your center bead in Step 2. This will anchor your row to your center bead.

Step 6: Thread your string back through the second bead, noting the direction you thread it back through. The bead flips to lie flat against the center bead. Gently tighten your beads.
Step 7: Pick up one bead and repeat Step 5 - 6, hooking the anchor thread and going back through your bead. Continue adding one bead at a time.

Tip: Less is more when it comes to the number of beads in your row. Don't try to "squeeze" one more bead in; this will result in a lumpy and wavy piece. It can be a fun effect, but only if that's what you're going for. 

Step 8:  To finish your row, thread your needle back down through your first bead. Proceed to hook and thread it back through like it was a new bead. Your first row is finished!
Repeat Steps 4 - 8, now hooking to the previous row's threads. Add as many rows as your heart desires to create dainty little circlets or elaborate creations. Tie a knot and give it a trim.

Tip: The more variation in the size and texture of your beads, the more interesting your piece will be. Play with the patterns and see what you come up with.
There you have it. I hope you've enjoyed this little tutorial. I would love to see what you create. Stay tuned for Part 2: The Completed Cuff!


27 Years Young

"It takes a long time to become young."
Pablo Picasso

Do you shake?

The impeccable Sidney Poitier gets his groove on with Judy Geeson.

Last night, my dear friend Jameson and I were on our way to dinner, discussing Rosewood Buttons. I told her that I was going to soon focus on another favorite movie of mine, 1967's To Sir, With Love, with the subject line "Do you shake?" With that, we exploded into our best 60s shimmy and a fit of giggles, with neighboring cars questioningly staring at us. A few hours later, as we frosted birthday cupcakes, the students on Fox's Glee began to serenade their teacher with none other than the song To Sir, With Love. No, really, what are the chances?

Glee proved to do justice to Lulu's smash hit from the film and made me all the more excited to write this post. I love Sidney Poitier as Mark Thackeray, engineer-turned-teacher in London's mean streets. Yes, these rough and tough students certainly rebel with their rock n' roll and hallway dancing. When student Pamela asks Thackeray if he shakes, a move meant to be intimidating, I just about die from, well, glee.

The blueprint to novice-teacher-enters-rough-school film, To Sir, With Love effectively, yet subtly, overcomes social and racial prejudices from the sixties - and today. It absolutely glows with heart and elegance. If there were more adults like Poitier's Thackeray, teaching youth respect for both themselves and each other, we would live in a vastly better world.

Poitier teaching truths to his students.

 Notable Quotes

Mark Thackeray: It seems that you know so little and are so easily amused that I can look forward to a very happy time.

Barbara "Babs" Peg: Who does he think he is there? Cheeky devil.

Mark Thackeray: I believe one should fight for what one believes. Provided one is absolutely sure one is absolutely right.

Barbara "Babs" Peg: You ever been broke, Sir? Real broke? Skin?
Mark Thackeray: Yup. Many, many, many times.
Florian: Oh, I don't understand you a bit, Sir. I mean, you're a toff, and you ain't.
Mark Thackeray: Huh?
Moira Joseph: Sir, what he means is, blimey, I can't sorta put it into words, or anything, but...
Barbara "Babs" Peg: Well, Sir, you're like us, but you ain't, I mean, you're not. It's kinda scary, but nice. You know what I mean, don't you?
Mark Thackeray: Well, I... I don't know how to answer you, except to say that I teach you truths. My truths. Yeah, and it is kinda scary, dealing with the truth. Scary, and dangerous...

Mark Thackeray: If you apologize because you are afraid, then you're a child, not a man.

Barbara "Babs" Peg: Oooh, look at me! I am a lady, I am!

Barbara "Babs" Peg: If you want to dance wif me, you bleedin' well ask proper!

Mark Thackeray: I think marriage is no way of life for the weak, the selfish, or insecure.

Mrs. Joseph:
So long as we learn, it doesn’t matter who teaches us, does it?

Mark Thackeray: It is your duty to change the world, if you can. Not by violence, peacefully, individually, not as a mob.

Mark Thackeray: Every new fashion is a form of rebellion.


Joyeux Premier Anniversaire!

Edward Gorey wishes Rosewood Buttons a happy first birthday.

In the hustle and bustle of this and that, I completely missed Rosewood Button's first birthday on May 28th. Gah! What kind of blogger am I, forgetting my own blog birthday, or blirthday? (Yes, I did just make up a word. It's that kind of day.) I even had it circled on my calendar so I wouldn't forget!

Without further ado, happy birthday to you, Rosewood Buttons. It's been an interesting experiment thus far, full of identity crises (blogdentity?), flurries of projects, and long bouts of not being able to update.

To another year!


Oil Palette

"Colour is my day-long obsession, joy and torment."
Claude Monet