Picture a little corner shop on Main Street with a big front window and an owner who takes her displays very seriously. In spring she fills it with sea and sunshine, by October it is all leaves, and in December there is a tree. The Tailor's Corner is our collection built around that window, and nearly every design puts a sewing machine front and center, dressed up for whatever the season or the mood happens to be. Go ahead and press your nose to the glass. We all do it.
The summer window
In the warm months the display goes coastal. One machine sits inside a curling turquoise wave, shells and coral tucked around its feet, and another rests among swirling blue sea and a bright, spinning sun that could have come straight out of a painting. Retreat Mode sets a machine out on a little dock at sunset, water glowing behind it, and one more sits in silhouette against a sunset striped in every color of the rainbow. For the garden lovers there is a machine covered edge to edge in orange sunflowers, practically blooming on its bobbin.
The fall and holiday window
When the weather turns, a cream machine arrives wreathed in red and orange autumn leaves. Then, right after Thanksgiving, the owner hauls out the best display of the year: The Quilter's Christmas Tree, a full evergreen trimmed with spools of thread and tiny folded quilts where the glass balls usually hang. We would stand in the snow for that one.
The art gallery window
Between seasons, the shop turns artsy. A machine is set in jewel-toned stained glass, another sits on a lavender mandala, and a third is framed by dark, ornate paisley. Machines trail plumes of rainbow feathers, one drips paint in every color like it just got caught in the rain, and a white machine rests under a rainbow arch above rolling waves. Spools of Wonder lays a circle of thread around a color wheel, and the Sewjourner designs point a compass rose toward a machine waiting at the end of a long, winding road. A sleepy cat curls up beside a machine in the corner, and a penguin with a very determined face stands under the words Sewciopath In Progress, which is how we all feel about the half finished quilt at home.
The sign hanging in the door
Every good shop has a sign on the door, and this one reads, in big bold letters, Sorry. Can't. Quilts. Later. Somebody you love lives by that sign. Maybe she is the sunflower machine, maybe the compass, maybe the penguin mid project. Find the window that is SO her. And if you ever find the actual shop closed on a Saturday afternoon, now you know why.
Written by Jenny. Thanks for reading.
