"One word," says Mr G.
I look at him.
"One word: No. Enn Oh: No. No, no, no."
Goodness me, he's such a drama queen.
All I did was show him this:
"I know what you're thinking," he says. "You're thinking: I could make that. I know you and I'm telling you now: No. The time has finally come for me to put my foot down and that's what I'm going to do ..."
Once again, I'm distracted from his rant by the picture on the cover. I find it strangely captivating. The young woman manages to be sultry and wholesome at the same time, a feat not made easy by the fact that she's sporting an ankle-length granny square skirt. Let's have a look at it in more detail, shall we? Feast your eyes, readers:
" ... don't even think about it. The name of that pattern is probably Grounds for Divorce," Mr G. is saying. "I mean, be sensible, woman. Just imagine trying to cycle to work in that skirt ... "
The magazine is one of a dozen or so that were sent to me about a year ago by a lovely friend called Pat in NJ (hi, Pat!) and, frankly, I am enchanted. Every now and again, I take them out and read them, cover to cover. It alarms Mr G. when he sees me poring over patterns for tissue-box covers in lurid oranges and browns or toilet-roll covers in the shape of fruit (want to know where the loo roll is? Check underneath the crocheted apple!) or flashlight covers in the shape of candles (the idea being that you crochet something that looks like a candle to place over the flashlight. Don't ask. I have the feeling that anyone who stayed still long enough in the 70s quickly found themselves draped in a crochet cover). Not that there aren't really interesting or pretty patterns - there are. Lots, in fact. But they're not quite as interesting as the things that are quintessentially of that era. It's like stepping back in time.
Take, for example, the ads. I love the ads. You can do correspondence courses in Spanish! You can order plants and have them sent to you - by post! You can learn to make your own snow globes or cross-stitch welcome mats. You can order pantyhose, model houses and mantlepiece ornaments. And there's a cornucopia of money-making ideas for the stay-at-home housewife:
Should you not feel like giving your local Persian rug maker a run for his money, you can gather up your empty pill bottles and recycle them as Christmas tree decorations:
Flipping ingenious. It doesn't quite work with a blister pack of aspirin tablets, but I love the idea.
Don't let my fivolous tone deceive you: I sincerely love these little magazines. They're captivating, enchanting, quaint. Reading them is balm for the crafting soul.
And I am so making myself one of those skirts.