Category: Plane Clothing

On March 3 the developers will lock the doors and we have to leave. We found out on Saturday. The rubbish is already taking over the hallways – old chairs, shelves, books, tins of paint, plastic bags and various wooden sticks and metal bits. The people next door left this weekend. The building is quiet. The bathroom and the corridors already have that cold, slightly metallic scent of abandonment.

Soon there will be no more artist studios on Cremer Street. The developer called us an “eyesore on Hackney Road”. And perhaps he was right. This is a crumbling sixties warehouse with graffitied walls, dirty windows and family of stray cats. It doesn’t fit with the new wine bars or the brand new apartment blocks with their straight walls, small windows and box-like flats selling for £600,000.

Soon this asbestos roof will be torn open and the walls chewed to pieces by bulldozers. I’ve seen it happen to the old council blocks up the road. I watched as the front of one of the buildings came down and a bedroom or living room with bright green walls gaped out over Hoxton like in some disaster movie. That was once someone’s home. In a winter the old buildings were gone and it’s been a year since people started leaving plant pots on the balconies and bicycles outside the new apartments.

This was always going to happen to the studio building on Cremer Street. The pub with the English flags in the windows was turned into a wine bar. The boarded up one that used to stand on the corner was demolished before I came here, but is still there on Google Street View like a digital ghost. Small shops selling wholesale bags and shoes are being turned into cafes. The gay club has been shut down. The derelict Georgian terraces have been renovated and decorated to smug perfection. The old hospital is being turned into expensive apartments. The boards around the building site show photographs of the people that might one day live there. Pretty, shiny haired people hanging out on Brick Lane. Aspirational people.

I sometimes wonder if these people are the new Londoners. The politicians talk a lot about “aspirational hard working families”, although no one seems to know who or where these people can be found. London itself is aspirational. The tallest buildings are reaching for new heights, the house prices climbing upward with them. Whoever you are there will always be someone with more money than you, a car more expensive than yours and an apartment more expensively furnished than yours. In this city we’re often reminded that the ladder stretches far above us.

But this aspirational London is not the town I want to live in. I’d like to call this place transitional, always changing, always in motion. London has been burned down, bombed and demolished several times over the last 2000 years. It’s always being rebuilt, the old torn down to make way for the new. But like a magic trick, the city never changes. In the midst of all of this turmoil some buildings have managed to escape the bombs and the bulldozers. Cremer Street and Hackney Road will still be there when the studio is gone. The map will look the same. Some of these roads were built by the Romans.

When this building is gone the stray cats in the studio car park will move on to another spot where people will feed them. The people who move into the new apartments will go to the same cafe we go to for their coffees. The trains will rumble along the tracks on the bridge over Cremer Street. The huge psychedelic graffiti eye on one of the tower blocks further into Hoxton will keep looking out over it all. We will move our studio south of the river and everything changes and nothing changes at the same time.


But just so I remember there is a sticker next to the door that says “Do you wear enough black to be an artist?” I don’t know who put it there. Next to it is a stack of framed prints and screens and then the table which used to be used for screen-printing, but we now mainly use for eating lunches and packing web orders, although not at the same time. On the wall opposite is the fridge and the microwave that should have been cleaned four months ago.

There is a shelf with tea and mugs and the plum vodka Gerry’s brother and his wife gave us and I swigged out of the bottle, whilst sitting on the printing table, one day after we’d had some upsetting news (it’s very tasty, thank you!). There is a shelf on the floor full of water-based paint and spray cans. Underneath the table are stacks of vinyls and screens. Next to the table there are two large and solid plan chests.

Underneath the barred windows there is the Ikea sofa I accidentally broke when I bounced up and down on it after I heard that my book had been accepted by the publisher. Then there is our desk where Gerry and I face each other, it’s covered in papers, printers, random hard-drives and cables. We’ve scribbled messages on it. There is a sleeping fish that Gerry drew on a sticker and placed next to my laptop.

Behind him is the year planner from 2015 and a huge Wall Street print that was damaged when it fell in front of the door and we had to bash the frame in order to get into the studio. Next to him is the Ikea shelving system with clothes rails stacked precariously on top of it and stock hanging below. Then there is the corner crammed full of stock boxes, hiding all the stuff that’s been forgotten about and kept out of sight. Behind that there are paintings, not ours, they were left here by the previous occupant who uses the studio for storage. This is it. The studio. Soon it will be empty and all we will have left are these memories.

Everyday life London Plane Clothing Thoughts

We’re coming up to that time of the year when people start buying a lot of stuff. Being a small business now is awesome and it’s stressful and a bit of an emotional roller coaster. Every order is important, every customer is seen, every customer matters.

I’m pretty heavily invested in one small business. I’ve seen five small business christmases up close and I now roll up my shirt sleeves and help out during this period. I also buy almost all of my clothes from other indie businesses and most of our Christmas presents from small and local businesses.

If you buy from a small business this Christmas you’re not only making the hard working owner happy, you also get a hand-crafted and unique present, it won’t be something that’s been thrown together on a conveyor belt and shipped all over the world, you’re helping to reward and encourage someone’s time, effort and creativity.

Blogger Door 16 is doing a great campaign supporting small businesses for Christmas. In the comment section on her post there are lots of links to small indie businesses, I will add a few of my own UK based favourites in this post (it will be a totally biased selection based on brands and people I like). If you have any companies to add please do so in the comments!

Plane Clothing


Gerry’s brand Plane Clothing. Hand printed, fairly traded and organic t-shirts and sweatshirts and limited edition screen prints.

Pssst… You can get 10% off any order with the code LONDONLOTTA

Vicious Boutique


Handmade dresses and womenswear. I love (and wear many of) the screen printed dresses and tops by Vicious Boutique run by our friends Jo and Si. They have their most recent pieces up at their stall at Spitalfield’s Traders Market on Sundays.

Gosia Weber


Quirky and colourful hand made leather bags and wallets by Gosia Weber who’s based in the Midlands.



Anke Weckmann draws lovely things, I have one of her prints in the bedroom and am thinking about getting some more. I’ve known Anke online since both of us were blogging on livejournal and it’s been great to follow her journey as an illustrator.



If you’re looking for vintage eyewear, Klasik, is the place to go. I got my current pair of specs from Adam at Spitalfields and am now constantly afraid of accidentally sitting on my frames because I love them so much. Glasses aren’t perhaps the easiest present to buy, but if you’re looking for a present for yourself…

Mia Illuzia


I recently found this Finnish artisan based in Cambridgeshire and have been coveting her necklaces ever since. The necklaces and stones all have a story and she drips them out one at a time. Gorgeous work and a great business idea.

Lemonstone Art


Charlotte Kessler creates magical paintings as Lemonstone Art. I love her series of long ladies and can’t help thinking she should do a book of children’s stories.

Plane Clothing

Take 7 days. Add one pop-up in Camden. A Music 4.5 event. Three deadlines. Some video editing and an open studio night. What do you get? Lots and lots of empty coffee cups.

I’m spending a lot of time in Camden this week, at the Camden Collective pop-up shop, where Gerry and I are taking turns to sell some Plane Clothing wares. The coffee and the company is good. I get to make new friends and hang out with fun people like Natasha of An Original Leroy and Jennifer of Sosome. I’ve also met one of the few other Lottas in London.

Then there are the hours when I stare into space as my brain slowly freezes. There is the person peeing in a rubbish bin outside, the sirens rushing by, the fire alarm going off. Lots of candy crush. Dancing around to bleepy electro and Beyonce to keep the blood flowing. Trying not to look at the other brands in the store because the last few months of creative writing adventures has left me bank account in the state of a starved toddler looking longingly at other people eating chocolate. Retail is hard work, it’s also awesome.

There is one thing I ponder as I sit here – how do people with young children/young animals/a regular exercise routine do it? Where do they find the time, you know that extra time… the time that has been squeezed out of this week. The time that means that dishes are done, clothes are washed, books read, thoughts organised, empty wine bottles taken down to the recycling. I’m looking around for that time, suspecting it might be hiding somewhere amongst those hours I use for sleeping.

One more week of time squeeze left.

Ps. I love periods like this.

Everyday life London Plane Clothing

Last week Gerry and I left London for a pretty spontaneous trip to Berlin. We had been planning on going for a long time, but never really managed to fit it in. In June we decided to just book the tickets and go. Our main goal was to take enough photos for Gerry to do his next series of prints from Berlin. We’ve come back with a couple of thousand pictures so I think we did pretty well.

I didn’t have high expectations. I had visited once before, in 2004, when I travelled over with my university to look at media organisations in the city. It was early spring and all I can remember is everything being grey, grey and more grey. This time was completely different. I was quite gobsmacked by how much I liked the place. It took me about a night to warm to it and after that I was in full on Berlin-crush-mode. Everything about the city was great.

Berlin felt a bit like London’s bohemian little brother. This is what London must have been like ten/twenty years ago when the city was still cheap and full of artists. We visited some really cool neighbourhoods with graffiti covered walls and chilled out cafés. The pace was slower, the people seemed more relaxed and it was all so (oh so) cheap compared to London. It was difficult not to fall a little bit in love with the place. Both of us left feeling we would like to go back and perhaps stay a little bit longer next time.

Day 1 Kreuzberg



We were staying pretty close to Kreuzberg and as I’d heard good things about the area that was one of the first places we started exploring. It didn’t take me long to start snapping away at pretty buildings, graffiti and cool tiles.


We were pretty exhausted after our flight (6am from Stansted) and didn’t do too much else than some gentle exploring, eating and drinking.


Day 2 Mitte and Prenzlauer Berg


Day 2 was when the fun really started. We hadn’t realised that Berlin is a pretty big place so we (foolishly) decided to walk almost everywhere. We started in Mitte where Gerry had been in 2008. He remembered the area being full of squats and artists, today it felt like walking around Notting Hill, expensive boutiques and trendy cafés everywhere.


Some left over graffiti from the olden days.


The quite strange Karl Marx Allee.

We were slightly disappointed but continued on, walking up to Prenzlauer Berg and then back south continuing east along the spooky Karl Marx Allee.


This is my it’s hot and I’m hungry face.

I’m not sure if London comparisons really work with Berlin but Prenzlauer Berg felt a bit like Islington and Mitte was more like Clerkenwell/Notting Hill.


We had to stop to refuel and hydrate pretty often. Yes that is a tomato not a strawberry in my lemonade.

We got back to our hotel and later that evening we realised the lampshade was making an interesting pattern on the wall paper.


We stayed in Ostel a DDR design hotel, where every room is seemingly inspired by the 70s in East Germany. It was quite cheap and we didn’t spend much time there.


Day 3 Neukölln


Oh my god did we fall in love with this area!



First we visited the closed down Tempelhof airport, which was pretty spooky. The wind was howling through the empty building (once one of the largest in Europe). It was very strange standing on the tarmac, knowing this place had once been filled with planes and people.


It was a really hot day and in order to avoid heatstroke we hurried to get some shade. Being from Finland I tend to struggle if it gets any warmer than 25 degrees. A friendly lady in a gallery in Mitte had told us Neukölln was the best place to find artistic people so we headed there not really knowing where we were going.


We stopped in a café so Gerry could sketch some ideas for his prints and I could cool down and drink coffee (not mutually exclusive).





A helpful guy in the café told us about Weserstrasse, which we walked up and down for a while, admiring all the small bars and independent shops. We were also told to check out the Klunkerkranich roof top bar, which was exactly what we needed after three days of non-stop walking.



We spent the rest of the day there plotting our return to the city. Then we went looking for food and ended up in Das Gift, a Scottish bar with excellent music and a Twin Peaks-vibe. We had some haggis and whisky and didn’t want to leave.


Day 4 Friedrichshain and Kreuzberg again


On our final day we revisited some areas, taking a couple of photos of things we had missed. We also met up with Kugge and then Amie, who was unexpectedly in town.



Berlin ♥

  • The food – so much lovely sushi, which you just don’t get here in London.
  • The buildings – the architecture reminded me of Helsinki, but a sort of post-apocalyptic Helsinki where kids with spray cans have been allowed to run wild.
  • The bars – relaxed and funky without trying too hard, cheap booze. What’s not to like.
  • Public transport – easy to use and not always underground. Definite plus.
  • Independence – lots of independent shops, cafes and restaurants. Nowhere near as many big brands and chains as in London. Fewer people wearing overtly branded clothing. Refreshing.
  • Safety – I felt safe enough to walk around dark parks at night. Not sure if this is advisable. It did feel like one of the safer cities I have ever visited, but this probably depends on the areas you stick to.

Plane Clothing Travel

Hello everyone. Hope you’ve had a good start to the week. I’m gulping down coffee, desperately trying to re-start my brain after the weekend. I spent Saturday and Sunday at Spitalfields with Gerry, selling t-shirts when he was doing the art market.

The market is fun, but exhausting. People come and go, you’re focused, you talk a lot, you look, you listen. In some ways selling is not so different from journalism. All you have to do is look people in the eyes when you talk to them. But after two days of standing up and talking I’m pretty exhausted, which is why I’m gulping down my second mug of black coffee. I’m trying to sharpen my mind enough to send off a radio story about the day’s biggest news story. I think I’m slowly winning the battle. I’m definitely caffeinated.

But I’m still a bit too woolly-brained to write a proper blog post. Which is why I will leave you with some more photos of lovely Cornwall. This is St Agnes, one of the cutest places I’ve visited in the UK.

st agnes


st agnes



st agnes

st agnes flowers


st agnes



st agnes


st agnes cliffs



Everyday life Picture post Plane Clothing

On Sunday I was standing at a market stall at Spitalfield’s market, watching customers walking past. I was freezing, feeling bored, angry and tried. Life on the markets isn’t always easy.

Gerry was doing an art market at Spitalfield’s and I was manning the Plane Clothing t-shirt stall. I’ve done a few markets in the past, but they’ve all been friendly, easy indoor markets. They’ve also been around Christmas time when people spend, spend and spend. Doing a market in April, when half of London is away on Easter Holiday and the other half is watching the London marathon is a different thing altogether. I did learn a few things.

1. Market traders like moaning

If you spend any time at all on the London markets you will meet a varied bunch of other traders. Some have done it for years, some have just started, some are doing the markets because they don’t have any other choice of employment, some are passionate about the product they’ve just started selling.

The one thing all these traders will have in common is the moaning. I did it too. It’s almost impossible to avoid if you’re having a slow day. Moaning and complaining is the market trader equivalent of a doctor joking about his patients, it’s a way to let off steam after a stressful day. You need to complain a bit after the third person walks by and turns their nose up at your stall. Or after someone ignores you when you speak to them.

However it’s easy to get stuck in a negative headspace. This will show through when you start talking to customers. They can smell it, they see it in your tired, dulled eyes. Moan a little bit and then remind yourself of the job you’re there to do.

2. There are plenty of customers out there – some will like your product, some won’t

The market is a stern teacher. If your product isn’t working it won’t sell. But even if you have a good product, not everyone will like it. You will meet some people who adore what you do and some people who don’t understand it at all. What you need to understand is that it’s not personal. Everyone is different. No matter how great your product is it won’t work for everyone.

This gets even more complicated if you do several days at a market where people LOVE what you do and spend money with you one day and no one even wants to look at your product the next day. Again it’s nothing personal, it’s probably just totally random and depends on the customers that happen to come through that day. Try to remind yourself of this. Don’t take the good or the bad days too seriously. Just keep working.

This same advice works for writers and most creatives. Some people just won’t like your style or your subject. Keep working away, put your stuff out there. Learn from the constructive feedback you get and believe in your product.

3. Remember the basics, eating and staying warm

It’s easy to forget about eating when you’re watching the stall the whole day. Market trading is tiring work. Eating will make you less grumpy. Staying caffeinated and warm is also important. Make friends with the traders around you and ask one of them to watch your stall when you get a take away from somewhere. Be friendly. Offer to bring people tea or coffee. Wear good shoes.

4. Don’t scare the customers – but talk to them

This is something I learned quite early on. Stand outside the stall, that makes the whole thing less intimidating for people who want to have a closer look at your product. Let them browse at their own pace, but always say hi and make eye-contact if you can. Tell them about the product, but only if they’re in the stall and looking at your lovely wares.

5. Market traders are doing a fucking tough job so make sure you treat them with respect

Market traders run small businesses, many of them make or source their own products. They work their asses off the days they’re not trading and when they’re doing market days they drag all their stuff to a stall, set it up in the morning, stand around selling the whole day and then pack everything down at night. It’s a tough job. Most people who do it voluntarily like it on some level (even though they moan), otherwise they wouldn’t be doing it because it’s fucking hard.

Most of these people are professionals. They and their products should be treated with respect. A market stall is their shop. Don’t put your pram in the stall and have a long phone conversation, you’re taking up space and valuable time. No one will browse through the product when you’re standing there. Don’t flick through the products like it was total cheap garbage, this isn’t Primark. Don’t be rude if you’re spoken to, the traders are just doing their job.

Most customers are great, but some clearly left their manners at home.

6. Market trading can be great – but don’t let that fool you

There is a certain freedom to the job, You’re your own boss, you choose your own hours. On good days you can walk home with your pockets stuffed full of cash. Every time a happy customer walks away it gives you a little boost. Sometimes you’re so buzzed and happy it’s a bit difficult to sleep. But market trading is also insecure, your product can work one day and be totally overlooked the next. You’re depending on the whims of the market so stay flexible, work on other avenues, have a website and put your stuff up online. Make sure you have a mailing list, connect with your customers on Facebeook or Twitter. It’s easy to get addicted to those good market days, but for most traders that won’t be enough to sustain a business.

7. Have fun

Even when the weather is shitty, when you’re cold, when no one buys anything, try to have fun. There are always interesting people to hang out with. Make friends. Chat about life and listen to all the interesting stories around you. If you’re spending any time at a market you’ll be surrounded by the most fascinating, creative and brave people you’ve ever met in your life.

Image by Daniel Robert.

London Plane Clothing The moving to London collection Thoughts

I spent a part of the morning taking some product shots of Gerry’s prints and snapped a couple of photos of the studio at the same time. This is the place where we work. Most days it’s this messy.

studio and gerry

t-shirt boxes

studio apples





Photography Picture post Plane Clothing

If you're looking for easy money, this isn't the way to go. A good Kickstarter means blood, sweat and tears.

Last September Gerry and I launched a Kickstarter campaign to get his series of New York prints funded. This was our only option. We needed to print five editions of screen prints, ten t-shirts and three sweatshirts in one go to launch the series. We didn’t have the resources to do this without external help. Kickstarter seemed like a good idea.

We’d been looking into it for a couple of months, trying to learn from successful and unsuccessful campaigns. We had a fan base that seemed excited about our project. We thought all we had to do was put together a nice video, a good pitch and press “go” on the project. Turns out it wasn’t all that easy. But in the end our campaign was funded, we’re super-grateful to everyone who helped us get there and we now have a great range of prints to show the world.

A good friend of ours asked for some advice for putting together a Kickstarter campaign. I thought I’d share my thoughts here as well, since we did learn a lot from running a campaign for a month.

It’s an emotional roller-coaster

Nothing could have prepared us for how stressful the whole experience can be. There you are, your product and your creative self-worth is on the line. If the campaign doesn’t fund it’s a very public failure. If you, like us, rely on the campaign funding you’re in for a ride that will make you tear your hair out and pray to whatever higher being you might or might not believe in.

Be prepared for the stress. One way of doing that is to have a really, really solid plan.

Make sure you have a good video (but remember the video isn’t going to make your campaign fund)

The video is very important. It doesn’t have to look professional, but it does need to look and sound good. Make sure you write a good pitch. Make it personal, approachable and friendly. Watch several other videos to find out what you like or don’t like. But also remember a good video won’t necessarily make your project fund and some people who back your project might not even watch it. That’s why it’s even more important to have really supportive fans.

Have an established and active fan base

Listen carefully because I will say this only once. It will be very difficult (believe me… very difficult) to run a successful Kickstarter project without a supportive fan base. If you look at all those projects which have over-funded and been hugely successful, they’ve all been run by people like Amanda Palmer or the studio behind games like Baldur’s Gate and The Longest Journey. These are people who already have incredibly loyal fans who are willing and prepared to support any project these people will pump out.

Your fan base doesn’t have to be big. You will probably already have heard about how all you need is a 1000 true fans to succeed. Even if you only have 500 fans and they all give you 10 pounds, that might fund your campaign.

But remember people on the internet are fickle. You might have plenty of followers on twitter or fans Facebook, but unless they’re engaged, active and really keen to support your project the numbers won’t mean a thing.

Crunch the numbers

Which is why it’s really, really important to crunch the numbers before you start. Say you’re asking for £5000, that means you’ll need 500 people to give you £10 or 50 people to give you £100, if you look at your fan base is that realistic? Here you need to be brutally honest with yourself.

Break it down over the weeks your campaign is running. Say you’re running it for four weeks, that means you’ll have to get around £160 per day. Is that realistic? Again be honest with yourself. Even if you think that’s a piece of cake, come up with a plan. How are you going to achieve this? What are you going to do during those days when no one pays you any attention or gives you any money?

Have contacts in the media/PR industry or the blogosphere

The hit rate for sending out emails to people you don’t know is very, very low. If you expect to get publicity from emailing bloggers and journalists who’ve never heard of you before, forget about it (unless you’re some kind of PR genius). That’s why, in an ideal world, it’ll be much better if you already have some established contacts with people in the media industry or in the blogosphere. These people might, if you’re lucky, talk about your project. But don’t count on it.

Work your ass off every day

That’s why you need to work your ass off every day. Have an action plan for the whole campaign. Who are you going to contact each day. What kind of social media will you do. Are you thinking about doing any PR stunts. Getting a Kickstarter funded is a full time job during the campaign. It might not be an uphill battle for a lucky few, but for most of us it means banging the Kickstarter drum every single day during the campaign.

Think carefully about your rewards

People on the internet don’t have a very long attention span. You don’t want to confuse them. Too many rewards or rewards that aren’t clear enough will do this. Limit yourself to 10-15 really good rewards that all offer something different. Don’t confuse people. Also have a very clear pitch for your project. Don’t try to do too much.

We released ten t-shirts, five screen prints and four sweats and thought we were offering our audience a chance to get lots of products they like. In retrospect this probably confused people. The really successful projects offer something simpler. One design, one t-shirt, one idea. It’s something to keep in mind and if we’d do a Kickstarter again we would do something much simpler.

Make it clear why you need the money

Yes why do you need it? Where is it going? How are you going to spend it? Why are you using Kickstarter and not getting funding from somewhere else. All this needs to be made clear.

Use some of the analytic tools out there

Kicktraq is a great tool for anyone wanting to start a Kickstarter campaign. It shows you how different projects were funded. You can use it to look up similar projects to yours and follow the progress of how they were funded. You might notice they got thousands of dollars or pounds one day and nothing for a week. It shows you the scary, nerve-wrecking experience of actually doing it.

When your project is live the clock is ticking. You’ll be able to see a timeline on your Kickstarter back-end showing you how much time is left and how much money you need. If you’ve had a couple of days with no money coming in it can get pretty bottom clenching.

Don’t rely on Kickstarter featuring you on their front page

This is how projects are funded. If Kickstarter features you on their front page or in their newsletter you’ve made it. Look at this like winning the lottery. It’s probably not going to happen.

Good luck

Hope this hasn’t scared you too much. Crowd-funding can be great for the right kind of idea and project. But like most things out there, it’s not easy.

Plane Clothing

Hello everyone. Sorry it's been a bit quiet here lately.

Wow, what a week. I’m in the studio gulping down a huge soya latte from our favourite cafe The Long White Cloud (where Gerry and I have been spending a lot of time lately, but more about that later). Perhaps after I’ve finished gulping I’ll be able to think, write full sentences or perhaps even do some work.

The Long White Cloud

It’s been a busy week. First we prepared for Gerry’s opening night/private view at the Long White Cloud, where he’s exhibiting all the London and New York prints.







Friends and Plane Clothing fans came a long. It was a really good night. I was swept away by the good mood, trying to chat to everyone, draining wine glasses a bit too quickly and topping it all off with some vodka and late night plotting in the studio. I don’t normally drink much, the vodka was a really bad idea.

On Thursday we left London and drove west with Gerry’s parents to help them sort out their lovely new house which is being re-decorated. Friday was spent drinking lots of tea and moving heavy boxes up several flights of stairs.

It was nice spending some time with Gerry’s parents and leaving London behind for a day. The town they’ve made their home reminds me of Twin Peaks. It seems to always be shrouded in mist, dark heavy conifers line the streets, some of the houses look like something out of an Addams family film. I like it out there.

And after a long and delayed train journey last night we’re back in London. Gerry’s at the market. I need to tackle a long list of my own work which has been postponed during the week. It’s all fun stuff (mainly writing). I’m just hoping the caffeine will kick in soon and help my brain along a little bit.


Everyday life London Plane Clothing

This is how you put up some sign vinyl. It's more exciting than it sounds.

The fun thing about working with Gerry is that I get to do lots of random stuff I never imagined myself doing. Like putting up sign vinyl on a window.

We’re preparing for a show at our favourite local café The Long White Cloud and spent the morning putting up a large detail of Gerry’s Wall Street illustration on the window. It was a lot more fun than I imagined it being – in my head I’d prepared for vinyl sticking to itself, getting tangled and crinkly, everything falling to pieces and me weeping silently into my coffee as the lunch crowd started queuing up.

Luckily none of those things happened.

The private view for the show is on Wednesday the 5th, from 6pm till late (or until the beer runs out). We’ve generously been sponsored by BrewDog. Come along to say hello, look at some art and grab a free drink! You can find out all the details on Facebook.


The window.


Some tools.


Gerry cutting away some excess tape.


One down, two to go.


Carefully removing some more tape.


Is it straight? Yes, no, yes!


Cutting some more transfer tape.


All the panels are up!


Bonus: How to put up sign vinyl on a window

1. Cut and pick some vinyl. You will need a machine that cuts a pattern on some sign vinyl or you might get someone else (with a pattern cutting machine) to do this for you. Then you’ll need to pick out your design – i.e. pick away all the bits that aren’t part of the design from the sheet of vinyl.

2. Put some transfer tape (huge tape) on top of the shiny side of the vinyl.

3. Clean your window.

4. Remove the backing paper carefully.

5. Spray your design and the window lightly with a mix of water and washing up liquid (you only need a tiny drop of washing up liquid). This will prevent the vinyl from sticking to the window too quickly.

6. Place the vinyl on against the window. Move it around until it’s in place. Use a ruler to gently press it onto the window and clear away air bubbles.

7. Use a plastic card (we used our oyster cards) to start pushing water away from the design. You need to do this a lot because otherwise it will take ages to dry and it will be really difficult to remove the transfer tape.

8. Let the whole thing dry.

9. Remove the transfer tape.

10. You’re done!

Everyday life Plane Clothing