Brief windows for patch works this week. The heatwave is relentless and trying, for all; even the flies that brazenly roam our house - seeing the open windows as their open invitation - are doing so a lot more wearily than their usual frenzied pace. Challenges around regulating and transitions are not uncommon in our house at any time, but they are amplified in this heat. I got a call from the school on Thursday late morning to say Nora was struggling so i collected her early. A long afternoon and evening ensued, that saw me wearing a self-constructed hat made from 100% water wipes (photo sadly not available), barely concealing a Monica-it’s-the-humidity mop of hair and ended with me waking myself up with my own snore at 9.45pm next to Nora, also asleep but holding her hands over her ears because of the fan sounding like a plane taking off next to us (i acknowledge the remote possibility she was holding her ears because of previously mentioned snorer). Cool baths, water wipe strokes and a temporary regression to cold Ella’s Kitchen apple pouches have all provided temporary relief. It’s Friday afternoon; we have nearly got through the week.
Today, while Nora was at school I managed to get into the patch works studio. It’s the coolest spot in our house, without any remotely close competition. It was originally our garage so the floor is relatively cold. Bowie likes it out here, although he quickly forgets and pads out to the garden to bathe in his full body black fur coat and then I have to coax him back into this space. Sometimes he is less Bowie and more a daft punk.
A large part of patch working is pressing the fabric. This i have come to learn through practice. Every time a new row is sewn together, I then press open all the seams. Sewing a row to another row. Press the seams and then turn the fabric over and press it down on the other side to get the newly joined fabric as flat as possible. Sew, press and repeat. Initially I had the iron on and realised quickly that it was rapidly changing the temperature in the room. So today I just focused on sewing all the half triangles and have let the ironing tasks pile up for a cooler day. It’s not how I usually do it but I found some steadiness in repeating the same task but using different fabrics.
I missed my SEND parent friends in the sewing studio this week. Sometimes I tell myself this is all a bit niche and not achieving much but i know myself that yes, it is niche but it is achieving small shifts and they count. They just don't feel as big and showy-off as my old world of work and they don't speak the language of LinkedIn, maybe that's not a bad thing.
There were plans for three of the mums to come over on different days but the heat and some of the kids not being able to go to school has changed that. This weather has provided setbacks for all parents i’m sure, but it is amplified for kids with special needs, kids who may be attached to routines or or not understand or be able to express how they are feeling or struggling. Blanket time is big thing for us at home and Nora has continued to pull a colourful crochet blanket over her legs when she is watching Zootropolis because it’s a routine and a comfort that she expects and needs. I can rapidly see the decline in her mood, with the wool bothering her skin but she fiercely holds onto it. Many of the children in Nora's class need to wear the same clothes; they expect to wear a certain coat in to school and to wear trousers instead of shorts and not being able to do these things, or insisting on doing them but feeling intensely hot and not be able to articulate that to their parents has been tough for everyone in the family. These are battles at the start of swelteringly hot days that these incredible parents just quietly and patiently dissolve and there has likely been tens on these moments every day this week.
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“I could never concentrate on Sunday church services because I’d be concentrating on women’s hats.” Bill Cunningham
Yesterday I saw from a fan account that I follow on Instagram (Dress for Bill @bcunninghamfilm) that June 25th 2026 marks ten years since the wonderful street style New York photographer, the original deal, Bill Cunningham passed. It may sound silly to some to say I miss someone I have never met, but I feel like that about old Bill.
How calming it was to see him clicking away on the streets of New York, like an early rising Kingfisher in his constant blue jacket. Perhaps it’s that warm, kind way he calls even the most grown up of grown-ups child but it is certainly because of his firm commitment to his values and his own personal perspective on style and expression. His ways feels a bit missing today where social media has made fashion even more ubiquitous and modesty seems so vintage itself that it may well may a comeback in some confused ironic form. He was unassuming, unwavering and saw beauty in unnoticed things and I think he has a sense of humour about style too. Here's a couple of shots from Bill Cunningham on the Street that make me smile
