A Room of One’s Own

When I was a kid, I loved visiting my dad’s office. He’d filled it floor to ceiling with goofiness – stuffed meerkats, vintage Moon Tomato Paste signs, giant plastic chicken masks, and tons of pictures of our dogs. I think all of this kept him going through twenty years of twelve-hour workdays, and I had such a deep love of the silly that I almost wished I could skip summer and spend my waking hours at work.

Too much clutter can get in the way of creativity, but I can’t help dreaming of sitting down to sew in a place like that. My thread rack would hang between a photo of the San Diego Chicken and a shelf of dinosaur figurines. I’d copy pictures of plants and kitchen tools from The Joy of Cooking, and I’d sketch them on the walls. The off-color linoleum floor would be covered by a thick blue area rug. One whole wall would be windows, and another would have a door to the outside.

Underneath the stuff, I would hide cleanliness and practicality. I think it’s important to have designated work stations – a table for laying out and cutting, another for hand-sewing. A large desk for sewing and serging, which I’d try to keep clear of everything except pins, needles, bobbins, and thread. The iron would hang from a place of honor on the back of the door.

But I’m probably getting carried away imagining. In practice, I’ve moved a lot in the past few years, and I’ve never had much disposable income. I have to pare down to mobile essentials, like a card table and a rotary cutting board that folds in threes. For storage, I reuse containers. A cardboard box is excellent for holding small scraps, and its ugliness is easy to combat with a tube of paint or a wrapping of pages from cooking magazines.

What is your dream studio like? How do you deal with real-life barriers, such as a small workspace? What inspires you while you work?