The Purple Purler

It started off as an idea, casually mentioned over pear cider, for one of my Sisters in Yarnstorming’s solo projects which was superbly hijacked by the rest of the Yarn Corps. Whilst eating mezze at the frankly splendiferous EV, final plans were put together and churches were drawn out of a bread basket.

St Clements…although not the most exciting one (surely Old Bailey would be the best), I didn’t quite expect it to be so shockingly…drab! Imagine my horror when, on the day of the reccy, I walked passed House of Fraser, turned the corner into St Clements Lane, saw a beautiful church at the other end, and was then told that, actually, that gorgeous place was not my church…but the dirty building that I was currently standing outside of was! I held out for a beautiful church yard round the back…alas I was disappointed further, when I saw the two graves and the patio tables in a yard that was smaller than my living room!

Oh! The despair! What the fuck was I going to do and where, exactly, was I going to put it?!?!

Being a stickler for thorough research, I headed home and looked for a history of St Clement. Who was he? Why was he a saint? Turns out he’s the patron saint of sailors, and was martyred by being tied to an anchor and thrown overboard. Nice! So I figured, a nautical theme may be in order, and initially I thought of creating an anchor out of oranges, lemons and bells, like a funeral wreath. But where’s the fun in that? Eh?

So one Friday evening, I grabbed some brown acrylic and a hook, and freestyled a ship! Much swearing, frogging and retrying later and I had created a ship! Huzzah!! And my imagination kicked into overdrive…

Next…the mermaid

Then…the sails

But what to do with all those oranges and lemons I’d made for that anchor? Why not have the ship riding on a wave of citrus fruit! Huzzah!

The line from the song? That’s what felt and fabric paint are for…

Mounted on the crest of a wave, et voila!

Now…where the fuck was I going to put it? Fast forward to the day of the yarnstorm, and after surveying all the options (there weren’t that many!) I plumped for the door handle. Death-defying feats ensued, and I risked being impaled on some savage (!) looking railings.

Yarn was hastily tied to the four corners and it was set in place to beautify the piss-stained alley in EC3.