The other day my man and I made a pilgrimage to Ikea to choose a sofa bed. As if going to Ikea isn't enough of a hassle in itself, we don't have a car, so had to take public transport. We took a bus, a train and a tram, until we reached what can only be described as the end of time - the bleakest retail park you've ever seen. We trekked through the back end of an industrial estate, past random gas canisters and (what I'm sure were) nuclear bunkers, until we finally got to gorge on Dime bar cakes and chips. A lifetime later, loaded up with random bits of crap we never knew we needed, we embarked on the trek back to the tram station. We were laughing about close our feet were to dropping off and how we couldn't wait to be home, when we spotted a recently built, expensive looking block of flats:
"Just look at those flats! Who would live there?! Imagine being shown round the penthouse and being told, 'From here, you have a lovely view of Maplins, Tesco and... and... Hobbycraft. [Dramatic pause.] HOBBYCRAFT!!!!!!"
I have the best boyfriend in the world. Even though we were about to die of exhaustion, he agreed to trek onwards towards the oasis of hobbies and craft. Despite its stupid name.
And this is how I ended up with some wooden bag handles, with which I whipped up this bag at Craft Club the other day. You like?