I have yet to try so many wraps but in my experience thus far I’ve had wraps that are beautiful but a pain in the arse to use, some that are pleasant all rounders, others that are lush. Then, very seldom, I’ve had wraps that have made my heart swoon.
I received one of those swooners recently. Cristina and I have corresponded daily via Facebook Messenger since she sold me a lovely merino wool Mokosh Thistles. We mostly talk wraps, peppered with details of our lives, but it’s mainly good old wrap geekery as we consult each other about potential trades and buys. I love it; the conversations colour sometimes dreary days commuting. One day I hope we’ll meet.
We have somewhat similar taste so when I asked her she would like to try my London Sling Company Voronoi Scandium she jumped for it but only if she could send me Sling Studio’s Gorse to try. I was well up for this because Gorse on paper is blend heaven; cotton, a good amount of alpaca and an equally excellent slubby amount of tussah. Sling Studio are famed for their tussah wraps.
Gorse arrived on the perfect day; I was at home dreadfully ill and quite fed up. I opened the box and my heart skipped a beat. I lifted this feather light and soft fabric out and could do nothing else but bury my face in it. Then I looked at the colours and cried a bit, a deep petrol warp and an incredibly textured weft of entwined acidic yellow/green silk and alpaca.
I honeymooned hard with Gorse. It’s wrapping qualities to die for, strong as an ox, so comfy on my shoulders, a breeze to knot and a texture to stroke. I felt like the colours were made for me; the size 3 made a fabulous scarf. I knew it was to be a short affair. Cristina is a mega churner and she had always doubted Gorse on her.
Yesterday I went for a walk with the girls, nowhere fancy, just to the shops. My eldest’s hand in mine as she skipped along chattering ten to the dozen, Smallest on my back in the most perfect ruck ever, high, tight and she was happy as a clam. Saying goodbye to Gorse was going to be heart wrenching. I hardened myself.
My husband, meanwhile, is a terrible enabler. I mentioned Gorse to him and said I might try and sell some wraps to buy it from her as and when. Why? He asked. You don’t need to sell any do you? He recognises the ultimate pleasures I garner from wrapping and the associated HE underworld. For this, and many other reasons, I adore him.
Then came the day, today, that Cristina said she was buying a fabulous handwoven but Gorse needed to go to fund it, would I like first refusal? My stomach dropped a bit. Could I? Should I?
Here it was, a wrap like gossamer and I didn’t want to, couldn’t, say goodbye. I sat there and did the maths, contemplated which wrap should leave. I hesitated for a millisecond.
Thank you Cristina. That Gorse is mine. Course since then I’ve had Brandy & Monica’s That Boy is Mine roaming around my head. Gorse substituted for boy.