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Bunting fiend…

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I love bunting. It is transformative. It turns a room into a party and turns grotty pajamas into a lovely decoration.

We have about 400 metres of bunting stowed under the stairs because we make a new batch each year for the Fair Christmas Fayre that we run. So we have miles of it, even despite having left at least 200 metres of it strung up around Bishopgate after the Climate Camp last year (it features in a lot of the photo’s of the day, like this one, really set off by the luminous coats of the riot police).

Normally I make it quick and dirty, sawing off triangles with whatever pair of scissors I can find, stitching it inaccurately to balloon ribbon. This is what you have to do when you are aiming to smother the world in bunting.

But this week I took my time, I was only hoping to acheive a metre and a half of it to give as a gift to our little two year old friends at their christening today. I sewed each individual triangle inside out (Yes! Seams and everything!) and scouted out some real bling ribbon.

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