Kristy tries out her “new” couch. (I didn’t pose her, honest.)

 
When I asked Kristy what she wanted for her birthday, she gave me a list of things as a joke: a house, a new couch, etc. A joke not because she didn’t truly want them, but because they were only slightly out of my (and her) price range.

The apartment she shares with Mr T has fun, brightly coloured walls — red, lime green, turquoise — and her couch was “prison beige”, as I like to call it, sitting in the only cream-coloured room. Yuck. And she complained that when she wore summer clothes, her legs stuck to the cracking vinyl. But it was a free couch, so she and Mr T made do.

 

This is what the couch used to look like. Ew.

 
I decided to grant her wish, sort of, by making her a couch cover. Had I ever made one before? No, but since when has that ever stopped me? Neither had I ever made pillow covers, but that didn’t stop me from thinking I could. Ho ho ho.

I first tried to use a secondhand queen-sized sheet, but it wasn’t big enough, and the colour wasn’t very exciting. Then I found a single-bed sheet set in Kristy-friendly blue (we have been friends for awhile so I knew) on sale at Spotlight. It fit all of my requirements: the colour was good, in a poly-cotton blend (no ironing) and the fabric smooth enough that it wouldn’t attract cat fur. And there were only two sets left, so I bought them both, just in case.

I used the flat sheet to cover the main section from back to front (it was the perfect length, miraculously) and split the fitted sheet in half, using the fitted corners to cover the arms and top corners on each side of the couch. (Lazy or genius: you decide.) But first I cut off the elastic edges to make the sheet easier to work with.

 

Kristy models the discarded elastic.

 
I had to visit Kristy’s apartment a few times for fittings late at night (to avoid the sun), and the project proved to be more difficult than I thought. I can sew, but tailoring is not my area of expertise. I think a modular couch with straight edges would have been much easier.

I sewed everything together and tried it out, but it just didn’t look right. And let’s just say I cut a bit more in certain areas than I should have. I love cutting! Whoops. So less than a week before her actual birthday, I decided to give up on the first attempt, wash the second just-in-case sheet set and try again.

 

Ta da!

 
This time it worked a treat.

The second time I camped at her apartment for five hours, with my trusty sewing machine, so I could get it done mostly in one sitting. And I kept the elastic casings on and just removed the elastic itself. This made it easier to sew and also meant I didn’t have to finish the edges on the inside. Everything was already neat and tidy.

I also went for a less fitted structure the second time around. The first time I tried to pin everything to fit, with the couch cover inside-out, but that only made it worse because the couch is not actually symmetrical. When you flipped the couch cover right-side-out, it didn’t fit the same as before. So this time I just followed the sheet hems, rather than try to pin tightly around the structure. I smooshed the extra fabric into the folds and added ties to the front and the back to tidy up the loose ends. A much smarter idea, and Kristy loved them.

The fabric on the pillows is Bulokku by Lara Cameron, a super-cool local designer. I love her stuff but it is not usually within my budget, so this was the perfect special project to use up just a small amount of fabric.

The edges and backing are from the pillowcase that came with the sheet set. It looks like I did it intentionally, but I didn’t have enough Bulokku fabric to cover the fronts of the pillows entirely, so I used the pillowcase bits to compensate. And I hate sewing zippers and buttonholes, so I overlapped fabric in the back like an envelope, which worked great. The pillows are extra squishy, and Kristy and I liked these the best. I’ll have to make more now that I know how easy they are.

Beetroot Island

 
I have been roasting up a storm lately. The ingredients depend on the contents of my weekly mystery box: potatoes, sweet potatoes, carrots, pumpkin (squash), corn, garlic, pinenuts, beetroot, parsnips, and/or my favourite discovery — apples. Just cut everything up into chunks, add a little olive oil, balsamic vinegar, salt and pepper, whack into a 200C/400F oven and go do other fun stuff for at least an hour while the oven takes care of everything for you. So easy, and so delicious. Even the next day, hot or cold, with ketchup or hummus.

I couldn’t resist saving the top off last week’s beetroot. With its little shoot I think it looks like a small island, adorned by a palm tree of some sort. It’s an affordable island holiday, and I don’t even have to worry about the sunshine. Well, it makes me giggle anyway.

—–

Speaking of sunshine, I’m going to Bendigo for Easter weekend and have been promised an op-shop (thrift store) spree on Saturday the 22nd. I love op shops, but I adore country op shops because their contents are usually cheaper and less picked over. In country op shops you can still find things with 5- or 10-cent price tags.

But because of my sun issues (and store opening times), I can probably only handle an hour or two of op-shopping in one hit. So if anyone has recommendations for op shops I shouldn’t miss, or a particular street or area that has a few clustered together, please let me know!

Late-night Bendigo fun-time recommendations are also welcome. Everything’s safe after about 8pm.

Mr Moon at Luna Park, Melbourne, from below
taken with Polaroid Spectra film

 
I am really upset by some news that I received by e-mail this week. Polaroid has annnounced it will stop making instant film by the end of this year.

When I say that I am upset by this, I am really upset. Like I-almost-want-to-cry upset. Which is crazy, I know.

Sparky asked me if my sadness was for sentimental reasons, and I think that’s definitely part of it. There were a few years in my life when it seemed I was always taking Polaroids, so I feel nostalgic for those days. At the risk of sounding conceited, I took some really great photos in those years. And I had so much fun doing it.

But it’s not just sentimentality — it’s also the fact that Polaroid camera lenses are different, and the films are different. You get super-saturated colours and a different way of seeing the world. With my 35mm cameras, I know fairly accurately how a photograph is going to turn out. With Polaroids, there’s always an element of surprise.

 

From my series of portraits of abandoned shopping trolleys (carts), taken with Time-Zero film.

 
I remember as a photojournalism student having my portfolio assessed by some professional photojournalists. One of them told me that my Polaroids (including the shopping trolleys above) were better than my 35mm portfolio images. There was more passion in them, the photographer said, which really stung at the time but I can see now was true. Just looking through some of my old projects today makes me sad, because that time in my life is gone, that innocence is gone, and now the film that inspired me so much and helped make it happen will soon be gone.

I used to love taking home Polaroids as souvenirs of photo shoots from my modelling days. I would subconsciously decide how cooperative a model to be based on how good the first Polaroids looked.

I had a Polaroid guest book for my wedding, with one photo for every guest. I took each photo myself.

from my “blue sky” series, taken with my $1 Land camera and 669 peel-apart film. The first picture is of a miniature, plastic, toy horse I found on someone’s lawn.

 
At last count I had seven Polaroid cameras and a slide printer (for making slides — remember them? — into Polaroids). But the truth is I am part of the problem, because I have hardly touched any of them since I got my digital camera five years ago. Digital photos don’t cost anything, and Polaroid film has always been pricey. And my Polaroid film of choice — Spectra — is incredibly difficult to get a hold of in Melbourne. I saw a girl at Golden Plains last year with a Spectra camera and excitedly asked her where she got her film. She was a bit sheepish about it and told me she got the last packet in town and had to fight off someone else for it.

I bought some Spectra film the last time I was in the States, but I’ve only used it at the Movember party, and it has yellow lines running through the centre. Old or damaged stock, I guess, which is so funny because I had been hoarding it for a special occasion. So I’m loath to stockpile all the film I can find this year because it might not even be of high quality.

I’m also sad because someone told me once that Polaroids only have a shelflife of 35 years. I don’t know if it’s true or not, but it makes me sad to think some of the best pictures I might ever take might not exist for future generations to see. Or they might fade and look nothing like they first did, like old tattoos.

I guess the saddest part of all for me is that the best Polaroids I’ve taken have been in strong daylight conditions, and I’m currently in a period of sunshine avoidance. I think if it were any other time, I would pull out all the old cameras and give it one more good year.