Noile dot Net

Peter, of blogging fame, is apparently not content with collecting a small army of sewing machines, or an actual army of Ken dolls (all of whom look as if they’re ready for some sort of leisure-suited Armageddon).   Nooo, now he’s gone and acquired a Patti Playpal doll.  From a Manhattan thrift store.  For the grand total of 15 dollars. (She’s even wearing her original pinafore!)

Does Peter have supernatural help in finding these things?  Or a secret army of spies, ever-alert, walking the sidewalks and scouting the shops? Because the most exciting thing I ever found in a Manhattan thrift shop was a Sherlock-Holmes-style cape with moth holes and several buttons missing.

But I digress.  Peter, meet Zoë.  Admittedly, I didn’t score her from a consignment shop on an exotic island, but she’s just as useful for freaking out the spouse:

I did, however, make her myself.  Or, rather, I designed and made her inner armature myself, modified her body, and assembled her limbs and head.  (Without the armature, she’d have been relegated to life in an assistive device).  Her skeleton is made of flexible plumbing tubing, which makes her less stable than Patti, but more posable.

Mr. Noile finds her creepy (and this from a guy who used to feed baby dolls to a giant preying mantis puppet!  Talk about creep factor!).  He was pleased to learn that Michael felt similarly about Patti.  And no, I don’t sew for Zoë, but I do have a whole box of 1940s and 1950s children’s patterns in the attic, and, next to Patti, Zoë’s apparel looks awfully modern, doesn’t it?  Maybe I should do something about that.  There may not be enough eccentricity in the world already.

What?  You say that I haven’t posted on this sewing blog since August, and then I write about a life-size doll?  Yeah, what of it?

I’m back home after several days in New York, including a Saturday spent celebrating (the first annual?) Male Pattern Boldness Day.

(Photo cribbed from MPB; that’s our fearless leader, front and center, looking, as he himself points out, quite tall.  How did he do that?  I think he’s discreetly en pointe, myself!  But you can hardly tell .  .  . )

Peter was a most amiable host and shepherded a good two dozen of us through a perfectly planned day full of New York City treats.  (We even met Michael, though he was a bit difficult to spot in the sea of humanity that we were at Brown Cup for lunch.)

Those of you unfortunate enough to have missed the day are encouraged to enjoy Peter’s excellent re-cap; I suggest that you do this immediately; those of us who are regular readers of MPB realize that a day that starts without an MPB post is hardly worth getting up for.

Since I’m leaving recounting the actual day to Peter, I’ll  just sneak in a few random notes here, to immortalize the unexpected joys of any day in New York.

For example, as I was walking from one floor to another of the Chelsea Flea Market, I discovered this marvelous vehicle parked in front:

It’s a Thunderbird, of course, and according to its owner, a 1957.  Of course, it’s owner is obviously a madman, since he actually drives this treasure in Manhattan.

Next to the Brown Cup, where we all ate lunch  (just down the street and around the corner from FIT), was a little Korean place, apparently run by the same people. It smelled heavenly, and they sell Kimchi pancakes.  Next time!  (Peter vouched for them, too, so they’ve got the MPB endorsement, though, sadly, not nearly enough seats for 25 ravenous fabric tourists.)  No picture, I’m afraid; too busy eating a tasty avocado and mozzarella sandwich from the Brown Cup at the time.

Kinokunyia is always full of surprises; we got there too late for me to buy onigiri for my trip home the next day, but many of us were treated to the sight of these otaku:

(Along with lots of Japanese sewing books, Kinokunyia sells a ton of manga.)

On the north side of Bryant Park, as I was heading off to do one last errand before packing in the day, I saw these portable racks of books (a “Reading Room”) for visitors to read while sitting in the square:

(For the electronically-inclined, or those of us, like me, who often have a rooted Nook in hand, Bryant Park, like many parks in the city, also has free wi-fi.)

In other news, I’d actually seen Peter at Metro Textiles on Thursday, where I’d gone to find some wool for a jacket. I hadn’t recognized him, go figure.   (Some fan, huh? — hey, it’s all about the fabric; focus, focus, focus!)  Kashi, Metro’s proprietor, isn’t usually open on Saturdays, so I’d figured (correctly) that Metro wouldn’t be on the agenda for MPB Day.  I even spoke to Peter’s shopping companion, Lynnelle, because the wool she was holding was such a great color.    On Friday morning, I realized my error when I saw Peter’s post, and the photos of both Peter and Lynnelle.

Metro Textiles is on West 37th Street, and it’s a great place to find fabrics at much better prices than you’d think, but it’s very hard to spot these days.  Kashi is on the third floor of a rather elegant-looking building which has had this rather inelegant looking façade for far too long:

No need to remember the floor; the men who operate the elevators are expert at spotting Metro shoppers!

All in all, it was a splendid day.  What else has Peter got in store for his legions of fans?  I wonder .  .  .

Sally lives for the day when anybody is sick.

She’s been known to herd people to the bedside, madly hoping one or more will spend the day sick in bed, next to the desperate cat.  A laid-up human!  Oh, the bliss .  .  .