Please take a moment to fill out our Shopper Survey so we can make sure next year’s Crafty Bastards is even better!

Even though the show is over, there are still lots of ways to celebrate Crafty Bastards!

Add your photos to our Crafty Bastards Flickr pool! We wanna see what you bought, what you ate, who you met and how much fun you had.

Is there something that you meant to buy, but just didn’t get back to? You can still shop with our vendors via the Crafty Bastards Vendor Gallery.  You can also connect with your favorites on Facebook or Twitter, and make purchases from their online shops.

Also the winner of this year’s Craftiest Bastard contest will be announced soon. Be sure to follow us on Twitter, like us on Facebook or sign up for our newsletter in order to find out who the winner is and get all our updates.

All photos courtesy of Rachel Carrier.

Wondering how to get to the fair? Then check out this handy guide for directions and public transportation information.

Still need plan out your shopping route for tomorrow? Use this vendor map to help you plan how you’ll navigate the fair to hit up all of your favorite vendors.

While shopping tomorrow be sure to keep in mind who you would like to give your vote to in the Craftiest Bastard Contest. You can either vote when you get home and back in front of a computer here, or cast your vote in person at the fair at the Washington City Paper booth.

Don’t forget to visit the new additions to this year’s event like the Young & Crafty Vendors, the Crafty Farm and all the added amenities like the stroller valet.

Take a peek at what others are saying about Crafty Bastards, like The Washington Post‘s Going Out Guide, The Washington Times and TBD.

And don’t forget to pick up this week’s issue of Washington City Paper where you can snag the official Event Guide.

By Heather Morgan Shott

When Ashley English moved to D.C. in 1996, her aspirations didn’t include canning and preserving her own fruits and vegetables, making her own dairy products, or keeping her own bees and chickens. And they certainly didn’t include writing a series of books on the subjects. Yet she credits the District with putting her on the path toward not only living on an 11-acre Appalachian homestead, but also writing the Homemade Living guides Canning & Preserving, Home Dairy, Keeping Bees, and Keeping Chickens.

“I figured I’d eventually make my way to New York,” says the 35-year-old, who moved from Asheville, N.C., to her stepmother’s studio apartment in Foggy Bottom so she’d have a “stepping stone” to the big city and a career in fashion design. “But I got to D.C. and made some friends who were involved in kind of the left spectrum politically, and I changed my mind about wanting to become a fashion designer. I got really involved with nonprofit work, which inspired an interest in the intersection of economy and food.” English nurtured that interest by working at the Whole Foods in Arlington, Yes! Organic Market on Connecticut Avenue NW, and the now-shuttered Good Food store on 18th Street NW.

By 2000 she’d decided she missed Asheville enough to move back. Two degrees—one in natural health, the other in sociology—“a series of different odd jobs,” and work as a nutrition consultant and medical assistant at a local doctor’s office followed. English was satisfied “on a lot of levels” but still wasn’t sure exactly where she wanted to be in her life. “I knew I wanted to move a little bit closer to actually working with food,” she says, “both in the kitchen and in the soil.”

Everything finally clicked after she met her future husband, Glenn English, who happened to own land in nearby Candler, N.C. “The property…had been an organic edible-herb and -flower farm. So there were greenhouses; there was flat land,” English says. “I thought, Well, this is perfect for me. Let me figure out what I’m going to do out here.” English quit her job and started Small Measures, a blog about her life on the farm. In 2008, a close friend who’s an editor at Asheville publisher Lark Crafts invited her to write a series of books on contemporary homesteading. The idea was that English would, for the most part, learn by doing, passing that experience on to readers.

“I was like, ‘Holy crap, yes!’” recalls English. “‘That’s exactly what I’m supposed to be doing.’”

English immediately got to work on Keeping Chickens and Canning & Preserving, both published in 2010. The chickens would be an entirely new adventure, but canning was something she’d always known. “My grandmother Ruby was a big canner,” she says. “She had a big pick-your-own blueberry farm in Chesapeake, Va., and a big garden with her second husband, so they did lots of canning. I can recall with great clarity her making and canning grape juice in her kitchen, bread-and-butter pickles, all sorts of things.”

English’s book covers all the basics and offers recipes ranging from strawberry jam to curried-winter-squash chutney. “Canning and preserving are absolutely a cinch because you just have to acquire whatever raw material you’re using,” she says. “You turn on your stove and you’re good to go.”

Keeping chickens turned out to be a little more involved, despite English’s assertion that it’s not too different from having a house cat: “You have to feed them every day and provide them with water, and if somebody gets sick, you have to take care of that.” There were some inevitable chicken causalities along the way. “There’s undeveloped land all around us, so that makes for lots of predators that would love a chicken dinner,” she says. “We would like chicken eggs, so our chicken coop is now fortified—we call it Chicken Fort Knox.”

Once English and her husband returned from running errands and, thanks to a faulty gate latch, “saw all the chickens in the yard” at the same time their German shepherd, Buffy, did. Most of the chickens ran back to the coop when the dog began chasing them, she says, but one wasn’t so fortunate. “My dog actually ripped the whole back off of one of them,” says English, who saved the injured bird by dousing it with hydrogen peroxide and stroking it to calm its nerves. The next day, the vet gave English medicine for the chicken—and inadvertently prompted a D.C. flashback.

“I was in the chicken coop…thinking, I used to hang out at the Pharmacy Bar drinking gin and tonics and reading the Washington Post, and now I’m giving my chicken antibiotics by beak,” she recalls. “I was like, Wow, my life is really different now.”

Next came the bees. English attended beginning beekeeping classes for two years before writing Keeping Bees, published in March this year. Today she has two hives and has never been stung. “I am one of those people who always wears gloves and always wears a veil and jacket,” she says. “Some people want to…feel the bees and feel the rhythm of the buzzing and humming while they’re in there, so they go in bare-handed, and that’s when you’re more likely to be injured.”

English says her precaution is more practical than anything else. (“I use my hands all the time as a writer and a cook…I don’t really have the time to get stung.”) But wearing protective gear can have disadvantages, especially in mountainous Candler, as English discovered in the summer of 2009, when, in bee suit and rubber boots, she fled a black bear. “Fled is actually an inappropriate descriptor,” she wrote on Small Measures. “[T]rudged, plodded, and clumsily, heavily ran are much more fitting descriptions of my attempt to high-tail it back up the hill to my house.”

In the book English writes about how to harvest honey, but she says she keeps bees mainly as a way to be environmentally responsible. “For me it’s not so much about the honey. It’s stewardship for pollination purposes. The output of my garden has increased exponentially having honey bees around.”

English’s latest homesteading adventure is chronicled in Home Dairy. Making her own cheese, yogurt, and ice cream has been surprisingly easy, she says. “I think there’s this whole shroud of mystery behind homemade dairy products. The veil became very thin when I was working on that book.” One of her main challenges was finding the correct type of milk for making mozzarella—which, she says, “has to have not been ultra-heat-treated in order to get all smooth and glossy and pliant.” She ended up going through several gallons’ worth of “mishaps” before discovering the perfect product.

Next up, English says, she’s hoping to launch a second food-related book series—“a spinoff in another direction.” She declined to discuss details but says she’s also thinking of exploring merchandising opportunities for the books she’s already written. “I’d really love to have a line of really cool canning lids.”

“I feel really fortunate to live the life that I do,” she adds. “It’s like serendipity has smiled at me in a lot of different ways.”

The following article is from the official Crafty Bastards Events Guide which you can pick up in this week’s Washington City Paper on stands now.

By Kieca Mahoney

Just about all of us dream of making ourselves a home, of creating a domestic space that suits exactly who we are. Christina Brown’s dream, however, is a little more ambitious than most. “I’m so obsessed with log cabins, and I’m determined to build one in my lifetime,” she says. “And everyone looks at me like I’m crazy when I tell them I don’t want to use power tools or anything. I want to do it all with hand tools. I’m probably not physically capable, but I’m going to try.”

Until then, the 27-year-old Fredericksburg, Va., native contents herself with building on a somewhat smaller scale. Since 2008, she’s made more than 300 ceramic “shelf cities,” each composed of a dozen model buildings no taller than five-eighths of an inch. Every one is cut and detailed by hand, then glazed dull white and fired. Some are inspired by structures she remembers from childhood. Others are more purely imaginative. In either case, she says, “Coming up with a new house is like, Hmm, what are you? Or Who are you?”

Brown fell into making clay buildings while working on terrariums, hoping simply to create some accessories for her plantings. “I just went to Michaels and bought this cheap clay and was thinking, I hope this doesn’t fall apart in this wet terrarium, which it did. It was urban decay after a while, and people would call me like, ‘My house melted!’” Within a few months, Brown had mastered her materials, and earlier this year she left her job at a plant nursery to work on her craft full time. Her shelf cities have now found their way to Australia, Japan, and Sweden, among other countries.

Brown’s latest planned project, however, is a bit closer to home. It involves Kenmore, the Fredericksburg home of George Washington’s sister Betty Washington Lewis. “It has a brick wall around the outside of it, divoted in spots where the bricks are old and caved in, and I want to set [my houses] up in there,” she says. “Imagine a kid walking by and seeing that, and the mom being like, ‘Not yours!’ But it has this tag that says, ‘Finders keepers.’…I imagine these people quietly taking them and putting them in their pocket and bringing it out later, this exciting little thing.”

“It’s that that makes me like it,” Brown says of her work. “Not the thing itself, but the idea of discovery.”

In her home/studio, a charming house once owned by her grandmother, Brown talks about the importance of childlike wonder, imaginary architecture, and little plastic flagpole finials.

How do you make your buildings? I throw out a big slab and then use an X-Acto knife to cut the rough shapes. And then all my tools are, like, a bobby pin and a needle…The best tool I have is the little plastic finial off one of those little flags, for the window. It makes a perfect square. I used to use it attached to the flag still, but I finally went ahead and broke it off. I’ll probably die if I lose it.

What is it that makes you create these cities over and over? I get bored sometimes making the same ones over and over again, but I’ll make a lot of, you know, more unique ones for myself. Other people don’t tend to get those more interesting ones…Part of it, admittedly, is that I like it when people think I make cool things, so it’s a confidence booster. But yeah, I get lost in daydreaming a lot. I need that time to, I don’t know, think of things that don’t matter…I think about farms a lot. I want a farm more than anything. I plan it…Whichever one [my husband and I have] fallen in love with at the time, I plan every inch of it and where every tree and chicken will go.

Does rearranging the farm in your head help you plan your little cities? Well, that’s why I started making them, doing the terrariums. I was like, Wow, this is a little field; I need to have a house for it. So I tried to make a little farmhouse. And boy, was it terrible!…Because I had never done clay before. I took one class in school, and that was it, and I learned how to make pinch pots and things…I had a lot of trial and error, and I didn’t have a kiln for a long time.

Why are all the buildings white? At first it was just that’s all I had, but then as I added colors to it, I just haven’t been able to find the right mix yet…I’m exploring all different avenues with the colors. I just bought some washes to try to darken in the windows because that’s one thing I don’t like, that the details aren’t as obvious unless you are looking closely at it. But then I have to remind myself that [people looking closely is] what I want.

Do you have a whole mental history for each of these houses?
Basically, yeah. I have the one that I decided to call the Anchor Hold because in one of my favorite books, [Pilgrim at Tinker Creek], [Annie Dillard] talks about the captain having an anchor hold on the side of a cliff by the seashore…It’s not a house. It’s a little tiny hut that’s called an anchor hold, where they anchor themselves when they’re not at sea. And I thought that was the coolest concept…I have way too much fun naming houses. And I want people to know they have names, so recently I started making these little tiny tags and hand-writing the names, and I wrap them in tissue paper and then I wrap this little string with the tag, and I think it adds to it.

You’ve said that a sense of discovery is the most important part of your work. How do you encourage that? I think the best thing is, you didn’t buy it. You got it as a gift, and you don’t know what you are about to open, and now you’re opening all these individual ones. And each one is different, and you’re holding it close and looking at it, and it almost brings out the child in you…[For the Kenmore project], I thought about how do I sit across the street with a video camera and watch people? Because I want to watch people. I wish I could be there when people give them as gifts and see people’s faces, because I’ve never seen anyone unwrap it.

You’ve started making tiny boats as well as houses. Where did that idea come from? My dad doesn’t ever want gifts, but he told me I could gift him things that would be cool for his grandkids, when he gets grandkids…So I had the idea of building a really shallow bowl that has the houses and trees around the outside, and then I would make boats to go in it and they would float in the water…I imagine a kid peering up over the counter and seeing this awesome thing, and [my father would] actually let them touch it, where normally it would be “Don’t touch it. It’s breakable. Look with your eyes.” I really like the idea of appealing to kids, even though they aren’t going to be the ones buying it.

All images courtesy of the Crafty Bastards Vendor Gallery.

By Mimi Kirk

Eleven years ago, when Hillery Sproatt was 15, she and her mother, Debby Weiss, then 44, went to the Los Angeles County courthouse to apply for a business license. They didn’t know what they were going to make and sell, but they knew they were going to do something artistic—together. “I felt that if I didn’t jump into it then, I would never do it,” says Weiss, who worked in a doctor’s office at the time but had been trained in textile design at UC Davis. “And Hillery was my inspiration. I saw her talent and wanted her to be passionate about it.” Sproatt, however, wishes the trip had been undertaken a little differently: “My mom is very impulsive,” she laughs. “There should have been lots more planning.”

The mother-daughter team ultimately started designing bags and clothing for their new business, Rebe. They’d discussdesigns together, and Sproatt would draw the patterns. At first, they simply made clothes that Weiss, Sproatt, and Sproatt’s two younger sisters wanted to wear themselves. These days, says Weiss, who now runs the line on her own, “The designs are at a much more mature level.” They include slouchy, layerable skirts, dresses, and coats that often incorporate Empire waists, Peter Pan collars, and other details from a range of fashion eras.

At 19, Sproatt left California for the Maryland Institute College of Art in Baltimore, where she began to produce her own collections of objects, now mostly whimsical, hand-embroidered dolls and mobiles. The dolls have a distinctly folk-art look, and because each is decorated with a different character on the front and back, they also suggest fairy-tale narratives. But Sproatt credits her mother as their original inspiration. “My mom made dolls when I was little,” she says. “My sisters and I loved them, and they were living somewhere inside me, I guess. When I went to create, they came out.”

Despite Sproatt’s growth as an artist in her own right, mother and daughter are still “best friends,” says Weiss. They often share booths at craft fairs, and Weiss even has a secret plan for another mother-daughter business: “My dream has always been to have a bed and breakfast with an art gallery and boutique,” she says. “I’d love to do it with Hillery.” Her imagined partner’s real-life response? “That’s good, Mom.”

Over the phone from Los Angeles and Baltimore, Weiss and Sproatt speak about how family members—and National Geographic—can serve as artistic inspiration.

What do each of you consider the biggest artistic influence you’ve received from the other? Sproatt: It goes back to the projects my sisters and I did growing up, sewing and embroidery and working with textiles in general. Things that my mom was excited about. She tried to make and surround herself with beautiful and special objects. It’s a gatherer’s sensibility, I think, and I inherited that sensibility—though I’m a little more choosy about what I gather! Weiss: Hillery originally gave me the courage to start the business, since she had the talent to draw the handbag and clothing designs. More recently, she’s encouraged me to look at myself as more of an artist. I’ve started making wall art using vintage fabrics…I always dreamed of having a gallery show but because of my background never really went about it. Hillery has given me the perspective to see that I’m creating pieces of fine art that could hang in a gallery someday.

Debby, what was it like designing clothes with your teenage daughter? I always pretty much did the designing. I would come up with ideas, get feedback from her, and have her translate them into two dimensions. There were times when we disagreed on how to do things or when our tastes varied slightly. We always fed off each other, though, and for me, it was about how we could get excited about creating things together. When we’d be selling the clothes at shows, people would ask if we were sisters or friends. She’d hate that. She’d say, “How old do I look?!”

Your clientele ranges from teenagers to women in their 60s. Do women of different ages wear your clothes differently? Well, my youngest daughter—she’s 17—will wear some of my pieces sexy. In the spring 2011 collection there’s a roomy brown shirt that women my age and older usually wear layered over a dress or over a long-sleeve shirt with pants. Without the layers, it shows the tummy. My daughter will wear it on its own with tight jeans. It’s an entirely different look, which is important to me. I want the clothes to transcend all generations.

Hillery, why did you stop working on Rebe? When I went to the Maryland Institute College of Art…I didn’t study fashion. I was more interested in printmaking in school, and now soft sculpture. So I guess I wasn’t as interested in that aspect of design. I think her taking over was a good thing. She makes nicer things than when I was involved!

What made you switch from printmaking to sculpture? It’s about what I can get my hands on. I like making prints, but I don’t have access to a printmaking studio easily now that I’m not in school. I did drawings for a while and then started the softer things. I work as a nanny, so I can sew during the day. I’ll design, cut, sew, and stuff a bunch of forms at home. At work, when the little boy I look after is down for his nap, I sew the bottoms shut and I embroider. You need something to do during those downtimes.

How do you come up with the ideas for your dolls and mobiles? Really, it’s just what comes to me as I make it. I trust myself. The original idea for the mobiles, though, came from a photograph I saw in National Geographic a few years ago of an object made in another culture. Stones that looked like horses were tied with string and strung up. I knew that I wanted to make something like it.

You’ve said that you often daydream and that your imagination can even overshadow reality. There’s something definitely fairy-tale-like about your dolls. My mother and I are both dreamers. I believe we can access things that people outgrow from childhood. For instance, I always imagine what kind of people my dolls would be if they were alive. Some of them look gruff, while others seem warm and kind. A lot of them actually seem familiar, like people I’ve seen in the world. I have one or two that turned out to have the most hideous expressions—all grumpy and sour—but I leave them that way. I think that’s more interesting, because that’s how we are.

How much do you two collaborate these days, aside from sharing booths at craft shows? Sproatt: My mom helps me produce the mobiles, particularly the horses and birds. She cuts and sews them according to my prototypes and sends them to me. My work is really a tiny studio operation, so it was getting to be too much for me to do them. I know she’d do more if I needed. Weiss: Hillery doesn’t do anything with Rebe anymore per se. But she wears my clothes all the time, and there are pieces I don’t wear that she does because we have different body types. Those are the ones I really seek her advice on. I’ll also send her fabric swatches and ask her opinion about those. So even though she’s not designing, she’s still always there as a sounding board or for inspiration.

All images courtesy of the Crafty Bastards Vendor Gallery.

The following article is from the official Crafty Bastards Events Guide which you can pick up in this week’s Washington City Paper on stands now.

By Garth Johnson

Ian Henderson makes jewelry inspired by nature. But that doesn’t mean he has a thing for sweet little flowers, leaves, or birds. Instead, the 31-year-old Bostonian says, “The insect world, the deep-under-sea-plant world, the world of things underground, under rocks, or in holes are an inspiration to me. The other thing that I’m attracted to are…claws, spines, stingers, fangs, and myriad other natural armaments that appear…on creatures in hidden and hard-to-reach places.”

His Zoa Chimerum line is a veritable natural history museum of defensive forms, bristling with overlapping spikes. But surfaces that at first glance seem hard, unyielding, and threatening are actually soft, pliable, and inviting. Henderson’s materials of choice are silicone insulation tubing and aluminum grounding wire, both repurposed from the electronics industry. They’re things that “are hardly ever used like this,” he says—but also things you can buy at the hardware store.

Discovering the hidden potential of the commonplace is something Henderson has always done. As an Army brat he “spent a lot of time lifting up rocks while…running around in the German countryside” before his family settled in Overland Park, Kan. He moved east to study metalsmithing at the Rhode Island School of Design and the Massachusetts College of Art and Design, then found employment as a sign fabricator, blacksmith, and flute maker. In 2009 a studiomate gave him some insulation tubing she’d never quite gotten around to experimenting with. Henderson had made some spiky, carapace-inspired pieces in college, but they were metal—and too dangerous, really, to wear as jewelry. Here, he discovered, was a material that could hold similar shapes without harming either wearer or bystander.

His Zoa Chimerum work is made from layering carefully shaped segments of tubing over wire armatures. A simple ring takes perhaps 30 minutes to make. An elaborate necklace might take as long as several days. But Henderson loves getting lost in the process. “I’m drawn to plant and insect forms because so much of their structure consists of stacked, repeated shapes that transform with each iteration,” he says. “When I use processes that borrow from nature’s logic, it feels like I’m somehow living inside of a growing thing.

“The only problem with this system,” he adds, “is that when I create something I really, really like, I have to reverse-engineer my own work just to figure out how to make it again.”

Via an audio file made during a soak in the tub—as well as a few ordinary emails—Henderson talks about organic design, natural poisons, and Lady Gaga.

What was the “aha!” moment that made you want to make jewelry? The closest thing I had to an aha! moment was actually when I took a jewelry class on a whim. I went to the Rhode Island School of Design summer program when I was a junior in high school, and in that program you could pick classes that were like preparation for real classes at the college…I was interested in learning something I wouldn’t be able to do in school with metal, gas torches, acids, and other things that you can’t really have in a high school environment—or at least not my high school.

You use repurposed materials. How important is that to the story of your jewelry? There’s a current in the craft world of taking objects people recognize and using them to make an art object that people also recognize—for example, making a bust of somebody out of pennies or a bull out of Red Bull cans. I feel like a lot of what happens with the emphasis on reclaimed materials is that becomes the whole story. I use the materials that I do because they have properties that I like. I use them because, as near as I can tell, I find them enjoyable to work with, and they are the best materials I know of right now for expressing the gestures that I want to express.

How do you go about planning and constructing your pieces? Each spine or curl is cut one piece at a time and layered onto a forged aluminum armature. The size, angle, and degree of overlap in the components is determined by eye and my own sense of visual harmony. Each segment in the sequence is a response to all of the segments that have preceded it. In this way the design process and the crafting of the object are happening simultaneously…Rather than planning a design out, I prefer to plan out a very specific process and allow the final designs to emerge intuitively from subtle and gradual changes in a simple, repeated step.

Are there details of your work that casual viewers might miss? The tactile quality. Most casual viewers do not pick up my jewelry unless I invite them to, because the pieces appear delicate and sharp. When they give in to my insistence and touch them, however, they discover that they are actually quite durable and soft. They are delighted to run their fingers along the flexible spines and feel them spring back into place…Visually, the details create the rhythm in the pieces, so while they are individually unremarkable, their relationship to one another is very important. In that way, the viewer might not notice all of the individual elements, but rather the way they harmonize with one another.

What can you tell us about the line between beauty and danger that your work explores? It’s interesting that the things we are traditionally repulsed by, when viewed in great detail, have elements within them that to most eyes are extremely beautiful—for example, the compound eye of a butterfly, the delicate veining of a dragonfly’s wings, the curvature and fractal rhythms of an uncoiling fern. There’s a certain beauty in them, and I’m fascinated by the fact that these tiny, delicate things often have poisons, weaponry, or other offensive/defensive weapons that are disproportionately severe to the scale of the animal or plant. These are tiny, fragile things that are extremely vulnerable and can be destroyed almost unconsciously by the more lumbering, overt creatures of the earth. The only way for these delicate things to have any right to exist in this world is by being deadly to the larger creatures that live around them.

What’s next? How would you like your work to evolve? I would like to see the work evolve outward beyond the confines of jewelry. My area of interest is really the whole realm of human adornment, the interaction with the human body, and the concept of human beauty. I’d like to find a place where explorations in that direction can find a home. The only area I feel like that type of exploration has any room to grow is the world of high fashion. If anything, I would like to get my work in front of the fashion world.

Are there any fashion designers you’d especially like to work with? The obvious choice would be someone like Alexander McQueen, if he were still alive, because rhythm, pattern, and biomimicry were always so central to his work, as were the themes of beauty/threat and attraction/repulsion. That said, much of the work I most admire in his collections was made—and, for all intents and purposes, designed—by other people. So I’d love to work alongside people…[who] made substantial contributions to the McQueen aesthetic.

The other semi-obvious choice, because people mention this to me all the time, would be the designers responsible for dressing Lady Gaga. Not all of it is to my taste, but a lot of it is consistent with my sensibilities.

All images courtesy of the Crafty Bastards Vendor Gallery.

By Bridget Elmer of Impractical Labor in Service of the Speculative Arts

Best Evidence that Bright Ideas Should Never Be Left on the Shelf: Household-Appliance Lamp by Minda’s Art
Here’s the problem with household collectibles: They’re hardly ever household “usables.” Sure, that vintage tea kettle or beehive blender may look great just sitting there, but it’s not lifting a Bakelite finger to help out with the chores. D.C. artist Melinda “Minda” Merinsky has an enlightening solution: Turn said slacker appliance into a keep-earning, warmly glowing lamp. She can do the same to land-line phones, nondigital cameras, even mason jars—any old knickknack that can accommodate a bulb, some wire, and her expansively witty design sensibility. She takes commissions, too—and aren’t chances good that your workhorse of a coffeepot is ready to be liberated from the never-ending task of keeping you caffeinated? Minda invites you to flip its switch and give it a chance to shine. [Visit Minda's Art in the Vendor Gallery]

Best Gift for the Closet Drinker: Hangovers by Hogmalion & Company
“No! Wire! Hangers!” Sorry, Joan, but I like having those paper-covered pieces of art

in my closet. Every day their reassuring logos remind me of how much pride my dry cleaners take in their work. Jason Higgins of Baltimore’s Hogmalion & Company clearly understands how I feel. His screen-printed Hangovers not only provide a handy way to store our sassiest pantsuits—they also tap into the wire hanger’s potential for self-expression. Emblazoned with “WE ♥ OUR BOOZE” and other important adult-beverage-related declarations, they’re the perfect way for my dry cleaners to ensure my loyalty even more. I’ll just drop off a case or two with my next batch of dirty laundry and wait for them to return. After all, what customer can resist a wire-framed message meant just for her—especially when that message is “Tequila!”? Perhaps even Mommie Dearest would consider a policy change. [Visit Hogmalion & Company in the Vendor Gallery]

Best Reason to Stare Deeply Into a Pair of Glass Taxidermy Eyes: Plush by Horrible Adorables
Given their relentless, doe-eyed cuteness, you don’t expect much in terms of emotional depth from the foam-stuffed, plush-covered creatures you meet at craft fairs. But after staring into the glass eyes of Sweasel Kit, Pimly Pom, or one of Jordan Elise Perme’s other faux-taxidermy mounts, you’ll be forced to reconsider. Sure, this Cleveland crafter’s impeccable technique could probably hold your gaze on its own. But her creatures’ big, soulful eyes, made with real glass taxidermy orbs, draw you in even more than their gracefully curving antlers and perfectly coiffed felt pelts. Once a Horrible Adorable catches your eye, you simply can’t look away. It’s as if these guys are somehow aware of the dissonance of it all—of the hint of sudden death peering out from their lively, colorful little faces. Now that’s deep. [Visit Horrible Adorables in the Vendor Gallery]

Best Invitation to Get Close and Personal: Smell Me! Perfume Oils by Bunny Butt Apothecary
“OK, OK! I’ll totally smell you!” It’s probably the last thing you’d want to say to any product having to do with a leporid posterior. But you won’t be able to help yourself after an encounter with the gorgeous design, clever wordplay, and tantalizing essential oils of Bunny Butt Apothecary. As the moniker implies, owners Anya Pokazanyeva and Scott Robinson add an irresistible dash of silliness to their line of health-conscious bath and body products handcrafted in Maplewood, N.J. “Because bunny butts smell like a spring meadow, didn’t you know?” No we didn’t, but we’re sold on Bunny Butt fragrances like Chai Town, a spicy mix of cinnamon, cardamom, nutmeg, black pepper, and vanilla, and Lycheerous, a tart blend of fresh lychee and honeyed rooibos tea—not to mention Hunnysuckle, A-Peeled, and Currant Events. The crafters and their two rabbits, Bunny and Other, may take “a firm stance against animal cruelty,” but they’re simply inhumane when it comes to making us choose. [Visit Bunny Butt Apothecary in the Vendor Gallery]

Best—and Possibly Only—Reason to Put On a Tie: Neck Fashions by ReVamp ReWear
I’ve never really been into the kind of man who dons a tie. As for the kind of woman who does—well, we all can’t be Marlene Dietrich, can we? But hold the phone. An ascot? Who knew that a frilly, dated piece of neck fashion could change my mind in a heartbeat? Kristen Swenson and Erin Derge, that’s who. The pair, who met in the apparel-technologies program at Minneapolis Community and Technical College, run Ginger Root Design on U Street NW, where they offer tailoring services and showcase their own ReVamp ReWear line. And technologically speaking, their ascots, Lady Ties, and Outlined Neckties are H-O-double-T! Expertly tailored from vintage silk, these neck-cessories are unisexy enough to make anybody feel like tying one on. [Visit ReVamp ReWear in the Vendor Gallery]

Best Argument That Handmade Is for the Birds: Reclaimed-Wood Birdhouse by Recycled Rowhouse
Let’s face it: Humans are seriously late to the party when it comes to creative reuse. Long before craftivism, green design, or even shabby chic, our fine feathered friends discovered the hidden potential in all things lowly and discarded and built themselves organic, locally sourced, and impeccably styled homes. Matthew Borgen of Recycled Rowhouse pays proper homage to these airborne trendsetters with his reclaimed-wood birdhouses. Thoughtfully crafted in his Havertown, Pa., shop from curb-rescued and yard-sale-purchased materials, these designer dwellings manage to stay true to the spirit of real-deal nests while also offering an upgrade in durability. Put a bird on it? Don’t insult the founders of sustainable design. The time has come to give the members of class Aves the props they deserve and put a bird in it. [Visit Recycled Rowhouse in the Vendor Gallery]

Best Excuse to Shave a Goat: Hand-Spun Yarns by Folktale Fibers
Muriel, you’ve got my number. That sweet smile, those brown eyes. And that coat—stunning! It seems almost sinful to get out the shears. But knowing the magic that Abby Sarnowski of Folktale Fibers can work with that wool, I’m certain that salvation will soon be at hand. On her homestead in Westminster, Md., this “full-time spinster” tends to her herd of Pygora goats and uses low-impact dyes and sustainable fibers to produce beautiful and unusual hand-spun yarns. In the past they’ve included Cherry Blossom and Mushroom Collector, both made especially for Crafty Bastards and complete with integral hand-felted and -embroidered flowers and fungi. According to Sarnowski’s blog, her hands have been full after the recent arrival of two sets of Pygora twins and a whole mess of heritage-breed chicks, but I expect equally great stashables this year. And though I’m a sucker for all things fuzzy and new, don’t worry, Muriel: I only have eyes for you. [Visit Folktale Fibers in the Vendor Gallery]

Best Reason to Throw Away Your iPad: Chalk Tablet by Peg and Awl

Take a seat, iPad: Your thinner, lighter, faster ass is about to get schooled. There’s one handheld device that doesn’t require proprietary software to get the job done. Designed and handcrafted by Philadelphia couple Margaux and Walter Kent, the Peg and Awl chalk tablet has an impeccable educational background: It’s made from chalkboard paint, vintage leather, and a sturdy slab of oak reclaimed from the bleachers of one Liberty High School, built in 1918. And it’s waiting to set us free from touch-screen tomfoolery and up-to-the-minute updates. If you can’t fit it on this tablet—well, TMI. As information overload threatens to short-circuit our very synapses, taking a chalk pencil to this elegant little tablet reminds us to keep it simple and substantive. [Visit Peg and Awl in the Vendor Gallery]

All images courtesy of the Crafty Bastards Vendor Gallery.

We are proud to announce the winner of the first ever Crafty Brewers Award. Drum roll please. The winner is: Brian Bennett with his Wild Yeast IPA.  Congratulations, Brian. Sam Wineka took second place for his Dog Days Pilsner. Mitchell West’s Strawberry Trippel took third.

In addition to beer, the Crafty Food Awards will crown the best preserves and pickles. Join us for the public ‘taste off’ and judging at Crafty Bastards Farm, starting at 3pm this coming Saturday.  Judges will rate on flavor, originality, and responsibility.

Thank you to all who participated in the first-ever Crafty Food Awards. Please make sure to join us Saturday at the Crafty Bastards Farm for the ‘taste-off’ and awards ceremony.

See you at the Fair!

In this week’s issue of the Washington City Paper is the game piece for this year’s Neighborhood Stampede. The rules are simple. Take your game piece to 4 of the 12 businesses listed and receive a stamp at each of the locations. Once you collect 4 stamps, fill out your contact info and then drop it off at The City Paper Booth, Skynear, Adams Inn or Little Shop of Flowers.

Be sure to then go to the Adams Morgan Partnership booth at the front of the fair to pick up their wristband to get discounts all day at businesses in the Adams Morgan neighborhood.

The grand prize winner of the Neighborhood Stampede a prize pack worth $800 consisting of tickets to David Sedaris, 10 Landmark movie passes, gift certificates from each of the 12 participating businesses, one limited edition Crafty Bastards t-shirt, one limited edition tote bag and more goodies!

Here’s a list of the participating locations:
1. Tattoo Paradise, 2444 18th St. NW
2. Adams Inn, 1746 Lanier Place NW
3. Skynear, 2122 18th Street NW
4. Idle Time Books, 2467 18th St NW
5. Lunar Massage, 1768 Columbia Rd NW 2nd Floor
6. Brass Knob, 2311 18th Street NW
7. Violet Boutique, 2439 18th Street NW
8. Smash Records, 2314 18th ST NW
9. AM Wine Shoppe, 2122 18th Street NW
10. Little Shop of Flowers, 2421 18th Street NW
11. XYZ Salon, 1807 Florida Avenue NW
12. Tryst, 2459 18th Street NW

More information and the ability to download a game piece now is online here.

Caitlin from Rebound Designs (Booth #51) has been doing the fair almost as long as I have and I can’t tell you how excited I was to see her add paperback book wallets to her line of book purses. These babies are durable and fun. I have one in my pocket right now!

Wanna know what I always check out first, though? Final Approach (Booth #143). This dude’s cases are so cool. I love to see his booth before anything has sold. It is like a little gallery show.

Shannon at Sweet Pepita (Booth #141) continues to wow me with her upcycled kid’s clothing. Her work is so well made and it is always exciting to see the new stuff she has come up with. She is also the loveliest person you will ever meet. I am not even exaggerating about that!

I am sure serious that if you don’t have a Kristina Bilonick (Booth #106) screen printed scarf this fall, you are totally doomed. I have been waiting for this weather to break just so I could put mine on. No idea if she will have the buffalo print, but dude, that one is ace.

Heidi from My Paper Crane (Booth #31) is the original Crafty Bastard (OG!) if you ask me. The silent loveliness of her Mushroom Terrariums cannot be missed.

Oh, what about me, you say? Well, I am so excited to debut my new line of tote bags in booth #71. Look!

Crafty Bastards is really a great opportunity for makers (new and old) to push themselves to new territory. Supporting real people who make stuff is so fun. Hope you find something awesome this Saturday at the fair!