Back in the depths of winter I painted a large, 90 x 90 cm crepe de chine scarf that acquired the name ‘Nixie Noire‘. It had followed on from a small, bandana-sized scarf called ‘Nixie Petite’. Weirdly, I had forgotten all about Nixie Petite until yesterday when I was doing my annual stock take.
Doing my stock take isn’t an arduous task as I rarely have more than 50 scarves available to buy at any given time. Instead, my stock take becomes a short journey of rediscovery as I work through my boxes and find work I’d forgotten I’d painted.
It might seem odd that I should forget my own work, but seeing the photos of my scarves on the shop isn’t the same as handling them. I know I’ve mentioned it before, but even the best photographs are not a substitute for the soft and almost luminous quality of a scarf in real life.
In passing I would also say, that at the various craft shows I have sold my work, interestingly, most people still only look. I have to suggest that people can pick up a scarf and feel it. I also have a small, gilt mirror to encourage customers to try on a scarf and see how it looks and feels when worn. I guess we mostly buy with our eyes.
Anyhow, counting the stock requires seeing the real item and in the case of Nixie Petite being surprised by it. Goodness, those colours and all that fiddly pattern. I must have been in an easygoing, light mood when I started that one!
And, if you ever wondered from where I get the names for my scarves, I choose them from an old book of baby names.
Nixie – from the Old High German, nihhus, ‘nymph, sprite’. A mythological mermaid, half-woman, half-fish, who could be glimpsed by lovers on nights of the full moon.
8 thoughts on “Another Nixie scarf, but this time bright and petite”
Gorgeous colours, I do like your work.
Thank you, so kind of you to say.
I love the name Nixie. I love this scarf. And I know what you mean, there’s no substitute for touching the work. You as the maker recalling it and the customers too. I remember having to encourage people to pick up my clay work. I think they were afraid they’d break it.
Oh yes, I definitely understand about being fearful of dropping a one-off piece of art that’s breakable. I am always a bit nervous handling even mass produced breakables. When I was in my twenties I was visiting Hampton Court with a couple of friends and we decided to have lunch in the then self-service restaurant. I will never forget it as my tray, plate, glass, food all spectacularly smashed to the floor when I tripped over. I go hot and cold just thinking about it now.
I would be reluctant to touch such beautiful works of art if I wasn’t sure I would be buying it. But what a wonderful surprise to discover this piece of whimsical happiness just in time for spring. I hope it will sell soon.
You know I am not sure when this – don’t touch etiquette – became so prevalent. I expect those ‘You Break It, You Buy It’ shop notices haven’t helped much.
Actually I saw these instructions quoted from the 19th-century ‘Hill’s Manual of Social and Business Forms’,
“Do not take hold of a piece of goods which another is examining. Wait until it is replaced upon the counter before you take it up.” All a million miles away from online shopping where the only guides are how to avoid fraudsters!
Haha. You sent me scurrying for my etiquette book, “DON’T” by Censor, which offers: “DON’T try the patience and tax the civility of shop assistants by looking at a large number of articles if you have no intention of making a purchase.”
Oh, yes, seems as though time-wasters are with us through the generations and across the planet.