designed in 1953 by
I don't know why it is that I buy books because of something I'm interested in, and then upon coming home, put the book down and don't remember to pick it up again to peruse the interest further. . . I have shelves and shelves of books, which are fairly tidily arranged. . .
a rather sizeable collection of poetry books; the Ladybird collection from my childhood and a small pile of Observer pocket sized hardbacks; a series of second-hand dog-eared paperback Nevil Shute's published by Pan and another Pan paperback series of Ian Fleming's Bond - similarly dog eared; books on typeface, colour, various Kaffe Fasset textile/source compendiums; art books, exhibition catalogues; novels grouped by author/publisher
. . .you're probably the same and if you're not you're different in your own way - unless you're a Dewey-Decimal aficionado there's no right or wrong way to pile books upon a shelf, is there. . .Furnishing Fabric, 1954
(© V&A Images/Victoria and Albert Museum, London)
anyhow, basically because the woman was called Jacqueline and I liked the design on the front, I purchased this book:
and lo and behold! she turns out to be the artist who designed the fabric that was used for the cover of the book that I'd bought because I liked the design on the cover! strange coincidence, really. . . and when I was googling images to share this with you - small diversion from my written words, for you to check out Jacqueline Groag's sumptuous designs - I came across this book:
now that's a long story, which I won't go into but the short version of the end of that story is that once I'd finished binding the book, I had to make a simple slip case box within which to put the book for transportation to the competition judges. . .
I'd run out of time, so I made the case carefully but quite quickly and decided to cover the slipcase with yellow bookcloth (to match the yellow I'd used in the fine binding). . .
some of the yellow ink I'd printed the cover image with
and some of the yellow paint I'd used for the tail:
(you can't see it, but the endband stitching at the head of the book
was yellow) (at the tail, it's black, as you can see above)
and for added interest (cos, let's face it, a plain bookcloth slipcase isn't very interesting, is it?) I used a (very simple) black and white photocopy of the cover of the Artists' Textiles book. . . only I blacked out the text and then with a yellow felt tip coloured in the white on the fabric skirt (cos the yellow had come out grey in the photocopy). . .
when it came to it, and the binding won a minor prize and was going to be in the exhibition, it turned out that the judges thought the case was actually part of the entry and so displayed it along with the book. . . only without putting a widget inside the box to maintain its integrity, which was compromised by the weight of the book propped up on top (I'd made it quite quickly, but it had been a robust slipcase for the purpose of carrying the book); you can just see the yellow of the bookcloth and the pattern of the Artists' Textiles book cover in the photo of the exhibit (the book is resting on the case) (yes, the inside of the case is red, because that was the other colour - along with the yellow - that I'd used in the fine binding) below:
(and no, I have no clue about the © issues
of using a photocopy of a bookcover on a private binding,
but that's probably no excuse, is it)
anyhow, what I wanted to say is that it's funny how seemingly random things we do today take us back to things we chose to do an age ago and is it any coincidence all those things happened, (especially given that, in this specific case, I have an interest in the 50s and art and textiles and and and) and/or is it just a little moebius loop that life has thrown at me and. . .
. . .has anything similar
ever happened to you,
to buy a book?