I've been making jewellery for years, as my dad is a jewellery
designer/maker, but I've seen myself at work and I know I've got plenty
to learn, so I was looking forward to my half-day Introduction to
Jewellery Making course, using beading and wire techniques, at the London Jewellery School. The school's
motto is 'everyone can make jewellery' and, based on my experience, I'd agree with that.
Where's the course held?
Fittingly, the London Jewellery School is just round the corner from
London's Hatton Garden, the street at the centre of London's jewellery
and diamond trade since mediaeval times. If you've never strolled this
street, I'd recommend arriving early for your class and spending a while looking in shop windows, admiring the
trays and trays of diamond rings.
Who's on the course?
We were a mixed bunch of women (maximum class size is eight) and our
tutor Becky started off by asking us to make a sticky label name-badge,
and to introduce ourselves and explain why we're there. Some have never
made any jewellery and some have had a go but want to improve, like me.
(My stated aim was not to have bits falling off my earrings!) A couple
of my fellow students had been given a gift voucher for the class – what
a lovely present! – and there was one mother and daughter learning
together. The atmosphere of intense concentration was punctuated by
bursts of giggles. At the end everyone agreed that the course was a
really enjoyable way to spend three hours.
What did we learn?
At each place was a case containing the different pliers and wire
cutters that we'd need. In the centre of the large table that we all sat
around were lots and lots of boxes of enticing beads. Becky gave clear
instructions, and offered support and encouragement, coming round the
table to dole out individual assistance where needed.
I was amazed at how much we managed to produce in just three hours.
We all went home with three pairs of earrings, two bracelets and a
necklace – those are mine in the photo below, minus the necklace.
Along the way we learned basic skills and how to combine them in different ways to achieve different results.
Progressing at a steady pace, we first learned how to judge the
length of a headpin for a chosen bead, and how to cut it, how to make a
loop, how to open the loop, and how to close it once it's on the
earwire.
Our first project (left, top, gold colour) was a pair of earrings, made
by learning how to cut headpins to size, thread on a bead, form loops
with the round-nosed pliers and slip onto ear wires.
We practised our loop-making skills by using short sections of
headpin, threading with beads and joining with loops for longer,
multiple-bead earrings (left, silvery beads).
Next we used several different-length headpins with groups of beads
(left, red and black) – I found it quite tricky to make three loops for
each earring and squeeze them all on to the earwire.
An elasticated bead bracelet (left, black, white and grey) was next, with Becky offering more
expert advice on how to tuck away the ends of the elastic by threading
it through the beads.
Memory wire was our next tool, which 'remembers' its spiral shape so
it coils around your wrist. Again, we laid out the beads to check the
combination and then threaded them onto a length of memory wire, and
finished with a bead at either end (left, green bead bracelet).
To make the necklace, we used tiger tail beading wire, made of
several wires covered with nylon. After laying out the beads and
attaching one end of the clasp, we threaded the beads on to the tiger
tail. A professional knot, small crimp bead to hold the knot in place
and tidy tucking in of the ends was certainly a better option than the
unreliable knot I'd have tied left to my own devices.
Since the course I've worn all of the jewellery I made - and even had
compliments - and I'm confident that I know how to make more without
risking losing my beads!
Find out more
The Introduction to Jewellery Making
costs £60 and is held on weekend afternoons from 2-5pm on selected dates between
April 29 2017 and November 9 2017. Find details of lots more
jewellery-making courses – including online courses – on the London Jewellery School website
or call 020 3176 0546. The School is at Rear Ground Floor Studio, New House, 67-68 Hatton Garden, London EC1N 8JY.
Thursday, 16 February 2017
Monday, 13 February 2017
Valentines: handmade with love
Hearts are the symbols of Valentine's Day. One shape, so many possibilities...
Here's an example of instructions that I wrote for Hearst Magazines' Allaboutyou.com: a spotted heart card with gingham ribbon bow.

And here's a variation on the fabric heart: sheer fabric machined together without being turned inside out, and filled with rose petals, and trimmed with a tiny heart and mother-of-pearl button.
Sometimes, keeping it simple has more impact. It's really easy to make your own Valentine card.
All you need to do is cut out a heart shape (template below) from whatever you want – fabric, wrapping paper, coloured card, corrugated cardboard, a picture in a magazine, an online print-out, your own photo/s – stick it to a blank card (decorating with a button, ribbon, petals, sequins).
Or stick on several smaller hearts of the same size, or layer smaller and smaller hearts on top of one another...
A good way to come up with your finished design is to cut some hearts from scrap paper and play around with layouts and sizes until you're satisfied. Then cut out the heart shapes you'll use on your card.
Add a heartfelt, handwritten message... what could be more meaningful for the one you love? (My own Valentine this year features a picture cut from a magazine, plus a paper heart; no previews here though.)
You can also cut heart shapes and string them horizontally, like these map hearts, or vertically.
Or stick on several smaller hearts of the same size, or layer smaller and smaller hearts on top of one another...
A good way to come up with your finished design is to cut some hearts from scrap paper and play around with layouts and sizes until you're satisfied. Then cut out the heart shapes you'll use on your card.
Add a heartfelt, handwritten message... what could be more meaningful for the one you love? (My own Valentine this year features a picture cut from a magazine, plus a paper heart; no previews here though.)
You can also cut heart shapes and string them horizontally, like these map hearts, or vertically.
And if you want to give a present too, how about a fabric heart? Filled with lavender, they can be moth-repellers, drawer scenters, keyrings, hanging decorations, and you can, of course, attach them to a card. Cut two hearts from fabric. Stitch them right sides together, leaving a gap for filling, and enclosing the ends of a ribbon (or string, or yarn) loop, then turn inside out. Fill with lavender, rose petals, cotton wool, cut-up old tights or soft toy filling, and stitch the opening closed. See the heart template below; enlarge to your chosen size.
Here's an example of instructions that I wrote for Hearst Magazines' Allaboutyou.com: a spotted heart card with gingham ribbon bow.

And here's a variation on the fabric heart: sheer fabric machined together without being turned inside out, and filled with rose petals, and trimmed with a tiny heart and mother-of-pearl button.
Thursday, 9 February 2017
Keep the pot hot: free knitting patterns for tea cosies
Whether they keep the teapot hot or not (opinions vary), a hand-knitted tea cosy is perfect for lending an authentically vintage vibe to any tea table. Here are some of the best tea cosy knitting patterns, all from the UK, and all free.
Super Chunky Tea Cosy, from Nixneedles
Solidly stripy, in muted shades – and with a pompom!
Home Sweet Home, by Zoƫ Halstead, from Let's Knit
A Fair Isle design featuring hearts, houses and 'Home sweet home'
Grannie's Traditional Tea Cosy, from Tea by the Sea
Keren Smith created this pattern based on a vintage tea cosy that her gran knitted, working out how to create the double layer.
Traditional striped tea cosy, from Nixneedles
This pattern is for an 8-10-cup teapot, worked in chunky wool.
Stretchy zigzag tea cosy by Ruth Cross, from Let's Knit magazine
You'll need to register to download this PDF pattern (which doesn't mention the sewn-on sequins this one's been decorated with – obviously you can embellish any tea cosy, or other knitted item, in whatever way you choose).
Here's another Made it! blog post on where to find free knitting patterns
Super Chunky Tea Cosy, from Nixneedles
Solidly stripy, in muted shades – and with a pompom!
Home Sweet Home, by Zoƫ Halstead, from Let's Knit
A Fair Isle design featuring hearts, houses and 'Home sweet home'
Grannie's Traditional Tea Cosy, from Tea by the Sea
Keren Smith created this pattern based on a vintage tea cosy that her gran knitted, working out how to create the double layer.
Traditional striped tea cosy, from Nixneedles
This pattern is for an 8-10-cup teapot, worked in chunky wool.
Stretchy zigzag tea cosy by Ruth Cross, from Let's Knit magazine
You'll need to register to download this PDF pattern (which doesn't mention the sewn-on sequins this one's been decorated with – obviously you can embellish any tea cosy, or other knitted item, in whatever way you choose).
Here's another Made it! blog post on where to find free knitting patterns
Thursday, 2 February 2017
How to make preserved lemons
Preserved lemons are a staple in north African and southeast Asian cooking. You can buy them (Belazu Preserved Lemons, £2.13, from Waitrose, for example) but I've been making my own for a couple of years. It's simple and quick – apart from the weeks of waiting for them to be ready.
Preserved lemons recipe
A delicious way to add a citrus tang to tagines, vegetables, roast potatoes, couscous and pulses, these gorgeous full-of-flavour jarfuls make great gifts, too.
A delicious way to add a citrus tang to tagines, vegetables, roast potatoes, couscous and pulses, these gorgeous full-of-flavour jarfuls make great gifts, too.
• 6 unwaxed lemons
• 150g salt
• 3 bay leaves
• 2tbsp black peppercorns
• 3 cinnamon sticks
• 500ml Kilner-type jar, sterilised
Top and tail three of the lemons. Cut into quarters lengthways without cutting right through the base.
Pour half the salt into a sterilised jar, and add the bay leaves, peppercorns and cinnamon sticks.
Spoon the remaining salt into the centre of each lemon, holding it over the jar to catch salt fallout. Place them into the jar – this might be a bit of a squeeze.
Add the juice of the remaining three lemons to the jar, and top up with water, if necessary, to cover the top of the uppermost lemon piece.
You can tuck in more bay leaves and cinnamon sticks if you like, which look pretty pressed against the sides of the jar.
Leave in a dark place, tipping the jar around occasionally to mix everything together, for about six weeks.
To use, remove a quarter, half or whole lemon, rinse, remove any pips and chop finely before adding to couscous, pasta, roasted vegetables... basically, wherever you might use lemon zest and juice, try preserved lemon instead for a saltier, tangier lemon flavouring.
Monday, 23 January 2017
Patchwork – and patience - the quilt is finished!
Precision and patience are both necessary for patchworking. Precision for the accurate measuring and cutting required to make your fabric pieces, and patience because it takes forever! That's why patchwork is intrinsically unsuitable for me: I enjoy a creative challenge, but I'm also fond of instant gratification.
At the weekend I finally finished my first – and possibly only – patchwork quilt. It took five hours to sew the patchwork, backing fabric and wadding together, and to make and attach the binding.
The project began about six months ago when I borrowed The Quilting Book (DK, £25) from my local library to see if there was a patchwork pattern simple – and swift – enough for me to follow. The book was due back before I'd started so I took a pic of the brick quilt pattern (which looks like brickwork except all the 'bricks' aren't the same size). It's designed to work with a fabric jelly roll (pre-cut fabric pieces rolled up together) but I didn't have one of those; I had an assortment of fabric leftovers and old clothes.
Clockwise, from the top: leftover fabric from sewing a Colette Sorbetto top, an old skirt of mine, an old shirt of OH's, leftover fabric from sewing a Prima pattern top, and, in the middle, an old dressing-gown given to me ages ago by my step-grandma.
The wadding came from Hometown, Rochester, along with advice on why it didn't matter in the slightest if the quilt wasn't perfect, and the backing fabric was from Croft Mill.
Next I started cutting the fabric into strips. The sun was out, so I did a bit in the garden, at which point my cat decided to 'help' by lying on the piles of pieces. (She enjoys lying on the finished quilt too.)
When I came to sew the backing fabric, wadding and patchwork layers together, I first laid them out (on the living room floor, again). I pinned them together (taking blogger Flossie Teacakes's advice to pin from the centre, in concentric circles).
I machine-stitched around the edge, then came the quilting. Taking my friend Kirsten's advice, I started at the centre point. She's very meticulous and methodical: perfect atrributes for a patchworker and quilter. (I commissioned her to write this beginner's guide to patchwork and quilting). I stitched 'in the ditch' (along the existing seam lines) lengthays and widthways at the centre, then halfway between the centre lines and the edges to give 16 quilted squares.
Finally, I made some binding for the edges, by cutting six metres of 12cm-wide backing fabric, then ironing in half, then folding each side into the centre. It doesn't need to be bias binding because it's for a straight edge, thankfully. I've made bias binding and it takes even longer!
What went wrong
• One of the hardest things was placing each fabric piece so that it didn't touch another of the same pattern. I planned the layout by laying the fabric pieces in strips on the living room floor, then pinned them together, rolled them up, and put them on the shelves, in order. However, once I'd sewn the 'bricks' into strips, when I came to sew the strips together it seemed impossible to prevent pieces of the same fabric from appearing next to each other, despite my careful planning on the floor. In the end I pegged the strips out on the washing line as it was faster to move them around. However, I still ended up with unwanted matching patches.
• When I laid the backing fabric, wadding and patchwork layers out on the floor, I laid them backing fabric first, then wadding, then patchwork layer. I pinned them together, then I thought, no, the patchwork has to be wrong side up, so I laid it out and pinned it again. Then I made a mini version out of one fabric brick, and small pieces of wadding and backing fabric and realised that wouldn't work, so laid and pinned it one final time. (And after I'd done that I realised I was right the first time, because seeing the raw edges doesn't matter because they're being covered with binding...)
• I forgot to leave a gap when I machine-stitched around the edge of the quilt layers, so had to unpick it to turn it right side out.
At the weekend I finally finished my first – and possibly only – patchwork quilt. It took five hours to sew the patchwork, backing fabric and wadding together, and to make and attach the binding.
The project began about six months ago when I borrowed The Quilting Book (DK, £25) from my local library to see if there was a patchwork pattern simple – and swift – enough for me to follow. The book was due back before I'd started so I took a pic of the brick quilt pattern (which looks like brickwork except all the 'bricks' aren't the same size). It's designed to work with a fabric jelly roll (pre-cut fabric pieces rolled up together) but I didn't have one of those; I had an assortment of fabric leftovers and old clothes.
Clockwise, from the top: leftover fabric from sewing a Colette Sorbetto top, an old skirt of mine, an old shirt of OH's, leftover fabric from sewing a Prima pattern top, and, in the middle, an old dressing-gown given to me ages ago by my step-grandma.The wadding came from Hometown, Rochester, along with advice on why it didn't matter in the slightest if the quilt wasn't perfect, and the backing fabric was from Croft Mill.
Next I started cutting the fabric into strips. The sun was out, so I did a bit in the garden, at which point my cat decided to 'help' by lying on the piles of pieces. (She enjoys lying on the finished quilt too.)When I came to sew the backing fabric, wadding and patchwork layers together, I first laid them out (on the living room floor, again). I pinned them together (taking blogger Flossie Teacakes's advice to pin from the centre, in concentric circles).
I machine-stitched around the edge, then came the quilting. Taking my friend Kirsten's advice, I started at the centre point. She's very meticulous and methodical: perfect atrributes for a patchworker and quilter. (I commissioned her to write this beginner's guide to patchwork and quilting). I stitched 'in the ditch' (along the existing seam lines) lengthays and widthways at the centre, then halfway between the centre lines and the edges to give 16 quilted squares.
Finally, I made some binding for the edges, by cutting six metres of 12cm-wide backing fabric, then ironing in half, then folding each side into the centre. It doesn't need to be bias binding because it's for a straight edge, thankfully. I've made bias binding and it takes even longer!
Given that it was my first quilt, and that, as stated above, patchwork and quilting are unsuitable crafts for me, I wasn't expecting it to turn out perfectly. And it didn't!
• One of the hardest things was placing each fabric piece so that it didn't touch another of the same pattern. I planned the layout by laying the fabric pieces in strips on the living room floor, then pinned them together, rolled them up, and put them on the shelves, in order. However, once I'd sewn the 'bricks' into strips, when I came to sew the strips together it seemed impossible to prevent pieces of the same fabric from appearing next to each other, despite my careful planning on the floor. In the end I pegged the strips out on the washing line as it was faster to move them around. However, I still ended up with unwanted matching patches.
• When I laid the backing fabric, wadding and patchwork layers out on the floor, I laid them backing fabric first, then wadding, then patchwork layer. I pinned them together, then I thought, no, the patchwork has to be wrong side up, so I laid it out and pinned it again. Then I made a mini version out of one fabric brick, and small pieces of wadding and backing fabric and realised that wouldn't work, so laid and pinned it one final time. (And after I'd done that I realised I was right the first time, because seeing the raw edges doesn't matter because they're being covered with binding...)
• I forgot to leave a gap when I machine-stitched around the edge of the quilt layers, so had to unpick it to turn it right side out.
Tuesday, 17 January 2017
Trying out the T-shirt yarn
There are several balls of homemade T-shirt yarn in the wicker picnic basket that most of my stash is stored in. I made some a couple of months ago, cutting up an old T-shirt of my partner's and one of mine. One is heavier weight, the other silkier, both are black.
I have knitted with the T-shirt yarn I made with the intention of turning it into a bag, but pulled it all out because there wasn't quite enough of it.
I wrote about how to make T-shirt yarn in my '5 ways to knit without wool' for Prima, which also included carrier-bag yarn, or 'plarn', and string.
You can follow the slightly complex cutting pattern explained in that feature, or you can simply cut your way up the body of a T-shirt in a spiral.
Once you've cut your T-shirt into a thin strip, pull and stretch it in lengths, to encourage the sides of the strip to curl inwards. Wind into a ball.
We're having some building work done on the house soon (yes, more room, more room for crafting) so I've been having a bit of a clear-out. Two pairs of jersey pyjama trousers were destined to be dumped. One pair I turned into T-shirt yarn, by cutting in a spiral up one leg and down the other.
For the other pair I was inspired by a necklace by EttƩ Studios, so I cut the leg into loops. I stretched and pulled these, then bundled 10 or so together, and bound them round and round at the back with another length of T-shirt yarn.
While fiddling with the loops I realised they have uses in their own right: doubled up, a sports headband to keep hair in place and stop it from flopping into your face when you're running or moving around. Worth doing for this alone! Doubled up, wear a couple as a choker. Use one doubled, trebled or even quadrupled up on itself as a lovely soft hairband for a ponytail or bun. Or double or treble up for a bracelet/sweatband. They do lose elasticity, but you'll have plenty more.
If you can't be bothered to make your own T-shirt yarn (or you don't have any T-shirts you're prepared to cut up), there's lots available to buy, including Jersey be Good, from Wool and the Gang, Zpagetti, from Hoooked or lots of options from the T-shirt Yarn Shop.
One thing I didn't include in my alternative yarns feature was knitting with strawberry lace sweets, not something I've tried personally, but lots of others have. The earliest mention I could find is on the Craftster forums in 2008 by Bexsus of Lewes, and this is her pic of the result!
I have knitted with the T-shirt yarn I made with the intention of turning it into a bag, but pulled it all out because there wasn't quite enough of it.
I wrote about how to make T-shirt yarn in my '5 ways to knit without wool' for Prima, which also included carrier-bag yarn, or 'plarn', and string.
You can follow the slightly complex cutting pattern explained in that feature, or you can simply cut your way up the body of a T-shirt in a spiral.
Once you've cut your T-shirt into a thin strip, pull and stretch it in lengths, to encourage the sides of the strip to curl inwards. Wind into a ball.
We're having some building work done on the house soon (yes, more room, more room for crafting) so I've been having a bit of a clear-out. Two pairs of jersey pyjama trousers were destined to be dumped. One pair I turned into T-shirt yarn, by cutting in a spiral up one leg and down the other.
For the other pair I was inspired by a necklace by EttƩ Studios, so I cut the leg into loops. I stretched and pulled these, then bundled 10 or so together, and bound them round and round at the back with another length of T-shirt yarn.
While fiddling with the loops I realised they have uses in their own right: doubled up, a sports headband to keep hair in place and stop it from flopping into your face when you're running or moving around. Worth doing for this alone! Doubled up, wear a couple as a choker. Use one doubled, trebled or even quadrupled up on itself as a lovely soft hairband for a ponytail or bun. Or double or treble up for a bracelet/sweatband. They do lose elasticity, but you'll have plenty more.
If you can't be bothered to make your own T-shirt yarn (or you don't have any T-shirts you're prepared to cut up), there's lots available to buy, including Jersey be Good, from Wool and the Gang, Zpagetti, from Hoooked or lots of options from the T-shirt Yarn Shop.
One thing I didn't include in my alternative yarns feature was knitting with strawberry lace sweets, not something I've tried personally, but lots of others have. The earliest mention I could find is on the Craftster forums in 2008 by Bexsus of Lewes, and this is her pic of the result!
Sunday, 8 January 2017
Brighten up January with flowering bulbs and funky plants
After taking down the Christmas decorations and the tree (which I cut up to burn on the stove –pine burns really well, with a satisfying crackling as the flames hit the sap), the house looks bare and boring.
It's time for a New Year re-run of bringing in the greenery, that fine old pagan custom we all participated in before Christmas. At this time of year, we can be forgiven for getting ahead of ourselves, season-wise, by bringing in spring-flowering bulbs – not least because almost everything in the garden is frost-chewed and blackened.
If you don't have your own bowl or pot of bulbs that you've been preparing for weeks, then supermarkets are a good source. My pot of Paperwhite narcissi and white hyacinths are from Tesco, £1.50 and £2.50 respectively. They were in pale-pink paper pots, a colour I hate, so I've wrapped them in newspaper (thought that was appropriate for the Paperwhites), but you could use leftover wrapping paper, brown paper, tissue paper... Just cut strips, wrap around the pot and secure with sticky tape. It doesn't have to be perfect; it's not permanent.
The pointy green shoots pushing up from the soil are an annual reminder of the renewal of life, the flowers are bright and cheerful, and the scent!
This isn't just something to do at home. Buy a pot of bulbs for your desk, or try a succulent. These tough little plants are brilliant for a dry, unhealthy office environment. The idea of greening the indoors after Christmas is one that Dobbies garden centres subscribe to, and the company has a great range of interesting – not too large – plants in interesting pots.
I have their cactus in a star-design pot (£3.99), which has withstood freezing temperatures in my bay window for the past couple of months, but there are all kinds of angular containers, including a mini-greenhouse frame, and terrariums.
Scott Provan, Dobbies houseplant buyer, has a tip for displaying your plants: 'When arranging plants for display, trios work best, with a mixture of heights. Use your tallest plant at the back and softer textures at the front. Try mixing up cacti and succulents.'
It's time for a New Year re-run of bringing in the greenery, that fine old pagan custom we all participated in before Christmas. At this time of year, we can be forgiven for getting ahead of ourselves, season-wise, by bringing in spring-flowering bulbs – not least because almost everything in the garden is frost-chewed and blackened.
If you don't have your own bowl or pot of bulbs that you've been preparing for weeks, then supermarkets are a good source. My pot of Paperwhite narcissi and white hyacinths are from Tesco, £1.50 and £2.50 respectively. They were in pale-pink paper pots, a colour I hate, so I've wrapped them in newspaper (thought that was appropriate for the Paperwhites), but you could use leftover wrapping paper, brown paper, tissue paper... Just cut strips, wrap around the pot and secure with sticky tape. It doesn't have to be perfect; it's not permanent.
The pointy green shoots pushing up from the soil are an annual reminder of the renewal of life, the flowers are bright and cheerful, and the scent!
This isn't just something to do at home. Buy a pot of bulbs for your desk, or try a succulent. These tough little plants are brilliant for a dry, unhealthy office environment. The idea of greening the indoors after Christmas is one that Dobbies garden centres subscribe to, and the company has a great range of interesting – not too large – plants in interesting pots.
I have their cactus in a star-design pot (£3.99), which has withstood freezing temperatures in my bay window for the past couple of months, but there are all kinds of angular containers, including a mini-greenhouse frame, and terrariums.
Scott Provan, Dobbies houseplant buyer, has a tip for displaying your plants: 'When arranging plants for display, trios work best, with a mixture of heights. Use your tallest plant at the back and softer textures at the front. Try mixing up cacti and succulents.'
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