Good morning, party animals.
How has your Sunday been so far?
I’ve been up since 6.45, which might sound a bit drastic, but is a good 90 minute lie-in compared to my weekday mornings. I’d love to tell you I’m like a spring daisy from all that extra snoozing, but it would be a big fat lie. Weekend candle burnt at both ends? Oh, yes.
If you are suffering similarly (crazy bed head, house in chaos and eye bags no airline would let you take as carry-on), I have a nice, soothing project to start your Sunday.
As well as being Copy+Paste’s birthday, yesterday also marked a full year since I moved house. Which is, in general, marvellous. But as you’ll know if you’ve ever packed up and shipped out of a home, it also means lost stuff – the things you had when you left house A but haven’t for the life of you been able to find since arriving at house B. It’s no huge deal – there are only a few, small, easily replaceable bits I’m missing, but a recent migraine made me realise I really, really needed to get round to at least one bit of that replacing. Namely, my eye mask. Blocking out any kind of light is a migraine must, but it wasn’t until I stumbled across an old cassette cover last week that I had that little extra flash of inspiration and put my mask-making plans into action.
Truthfully, I am a little over the whole owl trend. Can we say done to death? But it just seemed such a perfect fit in this case, that I set my prejudice aside and ploughed on with the idea.
I think the deliciously clashy seventies-style colours and print were mostly what won me over. In the end, it reminds me more of this Petra Boase owl than the Moloko version, but I’d say that’s really no bad thing.
If you want a little of the lowdown, the base and eyes are felt (proper, nice, soft-on-your-skin wool felt, rather than the scratchy acrylic kind), stitched together with simple running stitches, the feedsack cotton print is sadly not real vintage, but a reproduction fabric, and the stretchy bit that holds it around the head is a scrap of lingerie elastic that I dyed in a teacup.
And, just in case you’re still feeling a little Sunday-morning rough, here you go with a shameful shot of it in situ.
Seriously, if that doesn’t make you feel better about your own bed-head, I don’t know what will.