Sh*t brides say

I was creeping OMG I’m Married this morning and I came across this video. I thought I was different. Not a typical bride-to-be. But this video sure cut down that theory. The ‘pinning’ reference is what made me gasp-laugh and cover my mouth. I’ve become that kind of bride. I’ve been pinning the shit out of everything recently. Having said that, god bless Pinterest

Oh himmeli

At long last, my himmeli is complete. What is himmeli, you ask? It is a traditional Swedish and Finish Christmas decoration made from natural straw {as opposed to plastic}, and is assembled in amazing and intricate patterns. Ever since I saw a feature on Design*Sponge all about himmeli, I had to have them. I fell for their contemporary and simple look, and I fell hard.

I managed to find a massive bag of straws for €2, meaning this particular himmeli cost me around … €0.40. They are shockingly easy to make, and once you get the hang of it, the sky -or ceiling- is your limit. Below are my seven steps to making your own himmeli. I hope you’re as excited as I am …

What you’ll need : scissors, embroidery thread {since it’s thicker than regular thread}, an embroidery needle, a ruler and an excessive amount of straws in any colour you like.

Step 1 : for my first himmeli, I used the top section of the straws. This saved me from having to measure each piece. ULTIMATE TIP – cut the ends of the straws at a 45 degree angle – when you assemble the himmeli, I’ve found the ends align in a much schnazzier way at this saucy angle. I had made some himmeli without cutting it at this angle, and the ends didn’t match up as well. Step 2 : when cutting the other end at a 45 degree angle, make sure you don’t twist your straw, otherwise it will be wonky. Step 3 : do this until you have 12 pieces, as a standard himmeli consists of 12 pieces. 

Step 4 : thread your embroidery needle with a single piece of embroidery thread. Let the weight of the needle pass through the straw. Do this with four pieces of straw. At this point, tie a knot in the thread to close the loop, but don’t cut the thread. Knot it tight enough so the straws aren’t moving around on the string, but not so tight that the diamond shape doubles over. Step 5 : add two more pieces. Secure them {this can be done by simply looping the thread. No need to knot all the time} to the base, and add two more straws to the other side. Knot the thread here. Step 6 : in order to add the horizontal structure, pass the embroidery needle back down through one straw. From here, add one straw at a time, tightly looping around the vertical joints after each piece. 

Step 7 : once you’ve added all four horizontal straws, tie off with a knot or two, trim any extra bits of embroidery thread, and there you have it! You just need a shit-ton more of these to complete a full himmeli, simply repeat the process. At this point you may feel a heaviness in your chest, but trust me, all the fiddley effort is worth it. As stupid and poetic as it sounds, seeing my full himmeli quietly turning in the corner of my living room is pretty rewarding. I just want to make more. And make them B I G G E R. And crazier.
Consider playing with different lengths of straws to give oblong shapes, also mixing brightly coloured straws {if you’re not a colour-phobe like me} for cute rainbow infused mobiles. I’m hoping to tackle different shapes and styles after I get a little more practice. Now get up and make something wonderful to cheer up that dingy corner, that everyone will compliment you on! Go on. You’re so crafty.

Thrifty things – Canada clock

This is our cringey yet kitschy-fabulous Canadian clock. To call it thrifted is a bit of a stretch, but it’s a second hand find none-the-less. 
{Enter dream sequence…} a couple of years ago when we lived on the outskirts of Dublin, our neighbour’s mom found this clock on top of their kitchen cupboard. They weren’t too impressed by the overwhelming tack of it, so our neighbour’s son suggested handing it over to my broseph, since we were the Canadians in town. And there it sat. In my brothers room on his couch. For ages. Until I got fed up, took it from him, cleaned it, lovingly stuffed it with batteries and fully appreciated it in all it’s kitschy glory.
I’m not sure of the hands-holding-the-holy-bible and 1993 significance, but it’s got  just the right amount of awfully awesome so it’s staying, gleefully hanging in our bedroom for the time being, reminding me of home. In a weird way.