Guest post: cunning bunting

Today, a guest post from sometime contributor Abi, who has been missed! 

(I will be back very soon as well, in case you were missing me, too.)

I know it's been a while. But what better way to return to YHIL than with this... 

A few months ago it was my birthday. Yes, I turned 35 for the nth time. But that's not important. What is important is the spectacular gift I received from my friend Holly. Handmade and lovingly crafted this is quite possibly the best bunting I have ever seen in my life. As she unfurled it for me word by word (so I could get the full effect) I nearly popped. "Fuck the Patriarchy" it read. She knows me so well, and as a gift from one feminist to another it made me very happy indeed.

I think much of the joy comes from the fact that bunting is quite possibly one of the most benign forms of decoration ever. It's safe. It's nice. It's Mary Berry Bake Off safe and nice. So stitching up this art form with a subversive slogan gives it a lovely kick.

I hung it in our kitchen. Where I should probably get back to...

And you can see the same Holly show you how to make a romantic bedroom light out of sweet wrappers in this previous post.

Barbara Hepworth retrospective – and how to buy her art for £75

I'm a little breathless about yesterday's news that a big Barbara Hepworth retrospective is coming to Tate Britain next year. 

I saw Hepworth's work some years ago, in a show at Tate St Ives (in the town so dear to me): the Tate Britain show promises to be very good indeed, but the Cornish branch was possibly the most spectacular building in which to view her curvaceous, earthy work – and not just because it was the mid-century sculptor's adopted home and workplace.

If you've been to the beach-side gallery, you'll know the central plinth inside the front of the building, beyond which you can see the waves crashing into Porthmeor Beach beyond, sand, sky and water lit up with that unique, luminous St Ives light. Imagine now looking at that view not just through the circle of the windows, but also through the void in the middle of a giant Hepworth artwork. Magical.

The Tate Britain show, opening in Summer 2015, will be the first Hepworth retrospective in London since 1968 and will feature more than 70 works, including rarely exhibited pieces, pre-war carvings that survived the bombing of her studio and the artist's use of photography and film. (Random fact unconnected to Hepworth, but connected to St Ives and the war: my dad was a small boy in the 1940s and, while in St Ives visiting his grandmother, had to hide behind rocks on the little beach next to Tate St Ives as enemy planes flew overhead and shot at him and his father.

I'm digressing wildly. And this isn't just an excuse to publish images of some of my favourite pieces of her work. If you can't wait until 2015 to come to the big smoke and get your fix – did you know that John Lewis is currently selling a collection of beautiful reproduction Barbara Hepworth prints (pictured above and below)?

They're £75 each and are exclusive to John Lewis as part of the celebrations of the store's 150th anniversary.

The artworks were chosen because one of Barbara Hepworth's sculptures, Winged Figure, commissioned by John Lewis and installed in the early 1960s, adorns the exterior of the flagship London branch. You can see and read about the interesting story behind the six-foot sculpture on the excellent My Friend's House blog.

But don't go yet – you can also see some of Hepworth's rarely-seen drawings in this archive post by contributing ed, Abi.

Happy weekend all – and I'm off for a couple of weeks, partly taking little break in the sun and partly obsessing over what DIY chores around the house I can get stuck into. That's just how some people relax. You of all people should understand...


The Barbara Hepworth retrospective takes place at Tate Britain next summer; also part of the Tate's 2015 programme are major exhibitions including Jackson Pollock, Frank Auerbach, Marlene Dumas and Alexander Calder, kinetic sculptor and inventor of the mobile. 

Images: John Lewis, Tate.org and Hepworth Estate for the photograph of Barbara Hepworth in the Palais studio in 1963 with unfinished wood carving Hollow Form with White Interior, taken by Val Wilmer.

Post by Kate

A bathroom cupboard makeover for £30

We have a lovely, very tall, cupboard unit in our bathroom that holds all our towels and other bathroom gubbins. 

It was actually two units (a wardrobe and drawers) from Ikea that my handy husband stitched together and, hey presto, perfect height storage...

Alas, a joyous union MDF and steam do not make and so after a few years the doors got blown and warped and generally looked pretty manky.

I started the hunt for a new cupboard but was really disappointed at the total lack of decent options on offer – most purpose-built (and water resistant) bathroom cupboards are really small and deeply unattractive. So Mr Abi suggested looking at solid wood ones because they wouldn't warp; I found a few but again, too small. Then I made enquiries about getting one made and was rapidly put off by the £500+ figures coming in.

Eventually we sort of gave up, but the hideous cupboard haunted us. Then one day Mr Abi had a lightbulb moment – let's just change the doors and drawer fronts; the unit itself was perfectly robust and impervious to steam so we (and, dear readers, when I say "we" I sort of mean "him" – he's the handy one...) embarked on a little DIY adventure.

We picked a solid rough pine from Wickes: six planks cost us £25.

Handy husband glued them together then cut them down to size to form the fronts – he used the old door and drawer fronts as a template, handy when drilling in the holes for the screws and handles etc.

After leaving them to set overnight and reducing any slight natural curving in the wood, by piling a tonne of books on top, they were ready for a coat of plain white emulsion paint. Dab the paint on and rub it in with an old cloth to bring out the natural grain. Again, leaving them to dry overnight.

Next was a coat of wood varnish (he used a clear satin floor varnish) to seal it and we were ready to rebuild the cupboard.

I think you'll agree it looks rather splendid – especially as it cost us less than £30...

Post by Abi

Perky tea towels brighten up rainy days

It's still raining... I'm practically begging the weather to just get on with the winter, enough with the rain already!

Still, I had errands to do and so off I went, umbrella aloft, to my next door manor of Greenwich in south east London. Quite by accident I found myself rummaging around the indoor market which, on a Tuesday, is mainly second-hand stalls. And look what I found...

Aren't they just gorgeous? Bright, bold and a bit bonkers –ideal for my kitchen and guaranteed to brighten up any rain-soaked day.

And three for a fiver (or £2 each) is an absolute bargain. And if you like this, you might also enjoy Terence Conran's classic 1970s interiors bible and the colourful work of Ingela Arrhenius, who we featured last week – Kate.) 

I especially love the bumblebee; he might have to go on the wall.

No idea who they're designed by which is a shame as they're up there with Pat Albeck's whimsy styling as far as I'm concerned. (The design on the left, called Sheep May Safely, is a classic Albeck print from the 1970s.)

One of the tea-towel labels (the orange sunshine garden) says "Karsten" and the bumblebee is a classic Dunmoy Irish Linen, but there's nothing on the groovy kitchen interior with peekaboo animals.

If there are any 70s tea towel experts out there who can shed any light – do let me know!

Post by Abi

Impulse buy of the week: a toucan shaped lamp

Ah yes, we've all been there: car boot, chucking it down with rain, no bargains in sight when suddenly your 'phone rings; it's the other half: "Where are you? I've found something fabulous..."

So off I trot, past the tarpaulins and rain sodden traders to find the husband. And here's what we bought:

Yes. A floor lamp in the shape of a toucan. Don't ask me why, don't ask me how. I think it was a combination of sleep deprivation, bucketing rain and a kick of nostalgia. Nostalgia for all things kitsch.

Anyway, for the princely sum of £8 this delightfully batty (and, we suspect, homemade) lamp is our latest fix-up project. Mr Abi is going to polish the brass, fix the wobble, check the electrics and generally make our toucan all shiny again.

And I'm going to find a lampshade (although I do have a soft spot for the gloriously shabby seventies number he came complete with). Yes, the division of labour seems a little unfair but quite frankly he made me buy it. I do think Toucan's going to look lovely against a plain white wall though, illuminating a little reading corner. He might not be mid-century or even Danish but he's odd. And that's good enough for me.

What do you reckon? I'll upload the "after" pics when we've spruced him up.

Post by Abi

Bathrooms have feeling(s) too...

Hello, it's Abi here – sorry for the radio silence but I've been a bit ill and then went off to Marrakesh for a week (expect a post on all things Moorish soon). 

So, after Kate opened up the proverbial can (excuse the pun) when she posted a much-debated picture, it got me thinking about bathrooms. 

You can buy this original, 1956 Briggs Bathroom advert from Arcanium Antiques on Etsy 

Bathrooms are funny old rooms; we don't spend huge amounts of time in them and they don't have the social nature of other rooms like the kitchen, where everyone gathers.And I'm not one of those people who has a basket of magazines and books by the side of the loo (I just don't get it – WHY? Urgh...) as I can't understand the desire to stay in a bathroom any longer than is absolutely necessary.

So, I've generally given bathrooms short shrift: keeping ours über clean and tidy and that's about it. Now, when we bought our house nine years ago it was on the proviso I got a proper bathroom toute suite – picture this (I don't have pics alas but the sketch, below, that we used when extending it several years ago gives some idea): the bathroom was tiny – a miniscule handbasin like you get in cheap B&B ensuites, rammed up against a bathtub and, off to the side, a loo. Overhead was the boiler; we later discovered this was highly illegal – we were practically the Mickey and Mallory Knox of death bathrooms.

But the rest of the house was glorious. So we bought it. Four years later I get my new bathroom but it was worth it as we decided to build out on top of the downstairs room (the kitchen) and installed all manner of lovely things like showers and giant sinks and stuff (you can see the original plans, above). The handy husband did all the DIY; slate floor, charcoal walls, posh tiles. All very sleek, plain and minimal. I was happy.

And then a few months ago I took against it – I don't know why exactly; maybe I'd just grown out of my rigid bathroom ways and wanted to inject a bit of personality; the bathroom was the one room in our house that didn't look like it belonged to us and I didn't like that one bit. So, I decided to try to warm it up a little without having to spend much money. And hey presto – what do you think?

Losing the previously pale walls has given the room a much more welcoming feel.

The sixties lampshades were a steal at £3 for the pair from the oft mentioned and much loved Fontwell Car Boot.

Aside from the paint job, pictures are an obvious start to add some personality to a room. And I rather like the jolt of nasty you get with this classic Kubrick poster.

And the pink radio is nice for a morning singalong in the shower.

Handmade soaps from a trip to Nice stack up nicely alongside two Japanese pots we were gifted on a Tokyo trip.

I have tons of spare tchotchkes so thought I'd put them to good use on the windowsill above the sink; the vintage orange Poole vase was a gift from my mother, clustered with a cute fifties black and white pot that I think came from a junk shop somewhere. You might recognise the donkey and French decanter from here and the little Westie was a gift from Kate.

Candles, so much nicer than aerosol fresheners, are my new favourite things – these are by Parks and they smell lovely and have as strong a fragrance as Diptych candles. Like Diptych they're not cheap but sometimes you can find them in TKMaxx for a fraction of the price. And of course my little silver donkey has a twin over here.

The pictures are all postcards from Penguin's classic book cover set – I did the same in our kitchen with all the green ones; a cheap and easy way to fill wall space plus I love the mildly amusing titles on some of them. Picture frames came cheap from Tiger; only £1 each.

And look at this lovely chair – it was bought by my husband when he was on one of his prop shopping trips to Ardingley; it wasn't for a show but he said he couldn't not buy it for just £5; and with this cute early Tracey Emin-esque cushion on it I think it brightens up the corner perfectly.

So now I love our pimped up bathroom – the make-over cost me about £12 I reckon. I might linger a little longer in the shower because of it, but one thing's for certain: there will NEVER be a basket of magazines in there.