1. mis·sion creep
noun: a tendency of military operations in foreign countries to increase gradually in scope and demand further commitment of personnel and resources as the situation develops.
2. mis·sion creep
noun: a tendency of crafting operations at home to increase gradually in scope and demand further commitment of personnel, resources, shelving, cupboards, baskets, wall space and all available surfaces as the hobby develops.
Tell me you know what I mean. And tell me now ... before I start feeling guilty.
The thing is, the more time I spend scrapping; the greater the need to store my raw materials and the fruits of my papery labours in some sort of organised manner. Until quite recently I'd succeeded in keeping all my scrapping paraphenalia within one cupboard and one set of boxes in our craft room and then ...... then we bought a chest of drawers merely to sit a printer on and yet, just as water finds its own level, very soon my expanding collection of stamps, inks and adhesives flowed into it, filling the top drawer. Drawers two and three swiftly followed suit, housing my collections of: brads; eyelets; gems; decorative sticky tapes; Dymo tapes; camera equipment; photo-papers and bars of dark chocolate. You know ... just the essentials.
And then? Then I became seduced into the dark art of the mini-book and had a growing brood of them plus a new CJ to share and I began thinking it would be nice to have somewhere to store them all. By which I mean somewhere other than in a box in my cupboard ... by which I mean somewhere where someone other than me would know they existed. By which I mean: somewhere I could show them off to anyone in the vicinity whether they wanted to see them ...or not! I'd seen how people like Ali Edwards stored all theirs in beautiful boxes and baskets and how visitors could leaf through them at their leisure ...and I wanted me some of that action.Before I came to this conclusion, if you'd stood on our landing, this would have been your vista:
[From top to bottom] A photograph of a typical sky on the North Yorkshire Moors; a hammered-iron keep [from the Harding House gallery ]which we mounted onto clear acrylic; a photograph of a tatooed arm by Matt Schwartz [from his etsy shop] and a convex mirror.
Each piece you see was either a gift to James or something he bought for himself. Each piece something clean, graphic and bold in style. Each piece now finding itself sharing this once entirely masculine stretch of wall with this:
A pink glass vase. Pink albums. Pink magazine storage [magazines which may, or may not, feature my work ;)]. Pink ribbons dangling from shiny, twinkly, pretty mini-books [the total of which has grown even since this photo was taken]. Then, opposite hangs this:
And, while it may house some black and white elements, it does also bear evidence of the hand of a crafter who likes using pink.
If all this roseate girliness has come as something of a shock to the chic, monochromatic objets d'art which were there originally [or even to James, for that matter] ... imagine how I felt when I realised that despite all my self-delusions to the contrary ... it appears I am indeed one of those Barbie-lovin-little-girls who grew into a woman-who-never-really-grew-out-of liking pink.
So, there's no point in resisting it much longer ...I'm just going to say it ... you heard it here first: My name's Julie and I like pink. OK? In fact while I may have been a grubby, clambering girl-child at times I did have a 'Pink & Pretty' Barbie when I was little and, what's more goddammit, ... I loved her!
[Not so much that I'd actually kept my original Pink & Pretty, no, I found this photo online ... I don't like pink that much!].
So my friends, beware of 'mission creep' in you own home or you too may end up with a revelation about your personality displayed for all to see at the top of your stairs.
It's like the crafting equivalent of a Freudian slip and it will reveal your deepest, 'pink'est, secrets without you having any control over it.
In my defence ... I do seem to remember my friend Lori once saying to me that "technically it doesn't really count as pink if its kitsch" so, until I come to terms fully with the exposure of this long-supressed personality trait ... for the time being I'm going to refer to everything I do as kitsch ... and there's nothing you can do to stop me!