The death of Mrs Thatcher, that cartoonish super-villain of the 1980s, engenders some peculiar feelings. Compassion, forgiveness and magnanimity may make weak ideological attributes but as emotions they should still be cherished. I always imagined her as Lady Macbeth, trying to expunge the stain of humble beginnings like a phantom spot of blood.

There's an overriding sense of nostalgia in watching the footage rotate this week and thinking about the creative dissent she inspired. Not just alternative/counter-cultural comedy or cinema, but real mainstream stuff too; being seen to extol a message while wholly revelling in the glitz.

I spent half an hour researching contemporaneous lefty-pop for an evocative post: Ghost Town, The Style Council, that Blow Monkey's song with Curtis Mayfield, The Communards… you get the picture. Then I remembered watching the mighty Robert Wyatt's version of Shipbuilding as a bemused 12 year old... it's not something you forget in a hurry. 

• Maggie-Maggie-Maggie, 1925—2013 

 

The spirits of second-hand are strong as we progress through this remarkably wintery spring. So far this season my local charity shop has bestowed a cosy blanket jacket for me, a cute blanket-lined denim for the boy, some as-new Church's shoes for the fella and a tartan brolly against April (snow) showers. Hope I find something in madras, then I'll know summer's on the way.

The Cat's Whiskers

There once was a cat who just couldn't control his chops. People used to laugh at the cat's crazy whiskers, turning steadily clockwise, until someone noticed his furry facial features all pointing skyward at noon, when the sun was highest, or low to the ground come evening time.

Of course!

Nobody trusted the precision of this natural phenomenon at first, but these days everyone sets their clocks in accordance with the cat's clockwork whiskers. Now they're never late, passers-by always find the time for a stroke, snuggles, or as many treats as any pet could wish for.

Truth be told we've had the design for this clock around six months, just hadn't had time to print any! Today's time change from GMT to BST was the impetus needed to make a batch in blue... next up, red or green.

Topical Tale

 
• Egbert the Easter Egg, Richard Armour & Paul Galdone, 1965

• Jason Molina of Songs: Ohia, 1973-2013

Like Nun Other

 

What with this week's papal proceedings, I thought I'd post pics of this bonkers children's book from 1971. The author/illustrator, a minor TV celebrity in the 1960s and 70s, went on to write the odd book... increasingly odd; these covered guides to London cafés or the public restrooms of Paris and New York to compendiums of hangovers and disasters. Due to Routh's self-confessed inability to paint faces and fingers, each of his five books for children focus on nuns or Queen Victoria. You might say he made a habit of it.

• Jonathan Routh, The Nuns go to Penguin Island, 1971, Methuen

Easter Yummy

Whatever it was we did to get on the good side of Melt founder, Louise Nason, I'm sooo pleased we did it. I reckon this might be our fifth collaboration with London's most modern chocolatiers and, as the other vices of youth fall away, I cling ever more keenly to chocolate. Maybe that's why I'm unsure which aspect of receiving a Melt parcel I anticipate more excitedly, eyeing the beautiful packaging or devouring the contents!

Nestled in our Rita Rabbit box, Easter goodies are now available via their flagship store on Notting Hill's Ledbury Road; their concession in Selfridges or online.

Seeing as we're sandwiched between International Women's Day (yesterday) and Mother's Day (tomorrow)...

above familial studies from Nicholas Nixon, 1985 // below pages from Mary Kelly's Postpartum Document, 1975

Pond Life

I know, I know, this puddle's just too convincing. Took me an age to mop up after. It seemed like the best way to snap our prettiest new card which joins Jam Jar to form this year's offering for Mother's Day.

I'll be expecting my first Mother's Day card from the boy... in a wayward script suspiciously similar to his dad's.

 

If a musical genre title needs hyphenating, I was once warned, you should should steer well clear... the same apparently goes for food. I find myself more in the finding-hyphens-quite-useful camp. For instance, the whole life's work of trumpeter Donald Byrd (1932-2013) is no less astonishing for falling either side of one hyphen or another.

This Feb we also bid farewell to Bob Godfrey (1921-2013), whose personality has been so colourfully outlined by this week's obituaries. It's curious to hear Godfrey's long term collaborator and national treasure, Richard Briers (1934-2013), in a less familiar turn, narrating artist Ryan Gander's 2008 video, As it Presents Itself - Somewhere Vague.

Grrr

Meet Vegesaurus, he's not really as destructive as he looks, although he can get a bit testy without his full five-a-day.

Strictly speaking, I know they're fruits he's shovelling down his Jurassic jaws, but can't you cut me some slack? Fruitisaurus makes him sound plain frisky.

Risograph Galore

 

I'd intended to get these guys all dressed up in new frames for their photo shoot, but they looked so cheerful emerging from the packaging in Wednesday morning's half-light, I just had to reach for the camera.

Much as we love to print by hand, labour can make the silk-screen process a bit expensive for childrens' walls. These A3 Risographs are far more reasonably priced... though I'm hoping adults will enjoy them too.

We first used the method for a V&A Museum commission some time back and they're strangely deceptive beasts; outwardly resembling a regular old Zerox copier, inside they marry disparate printing techniques to deliver something quite unique.

The paper needs to pass through the machine to receive each colour, which makes a mockery of precise registration, while the colours themselves are limited and can't be mixed (although, in truth, subtleties could be achieved through overlays or halftones). Despite these clunky limitations and inbuilt imperfections, they have a wonderful quality that's utterly matte and simultaneously somehow luminescent.

You can snap 'em up here.

A Close Watch

Like most long-term lovers, all industry interests aside, Valentine's was never writ particularly large on our calendar. This year I almost understand why couples might need a designated date to ignore the day-to-day drone and focus afresh on their spouse. If only momentarily.

I've spent more time than ever with my partner these recent months, but parenthood and bereavement means I've missed them exponentially. Of course there's a whole new level of intimacy, not just the visceral stuff, but the stream-of-consciousness baby talk; spontaneous and improvised songs and characters that sometimes take you so far beyond the realm of sense, you wonder if you'll ever come back.

Maybe today we can recall the calm constant centre of our very minor maelstrom. Or maybe not.

Happy Valentine's, boot-face.

Vessels

History repeats itself; first as tragedy, then as farce. At least that's how Marx famously paraphrases Hegel. For me, it's equally true in reverse... even when something looks farcical it can still feel pretty tragic.

• Awesome anthropomorphic "Amlash" vase, 8th century BC
• Wade money-box/figurine (promo tie-in with defunct retailers, Rumbelows), 1980s

Mr Loverman

There's a whole new generation out there who'll have missed the towering misogyny and unrepentant homophobia that is Shabba Ranks, and yet I still hope to inspire some Champion Lovers with our latest Valentine, Mr. Loverman. Any affinity with the West Indies ends there though, visually this design's all Eastern Block.

Trigonometry

A triangle is the least likely solution for any design problem, maybe that's why I'm preferring them to their more practical cousins, the circle and square. I once tried to make a ceramic replica of Picasso's triangular vase from his tomato plant pic but —in professional potter's parlance— it went all wonky. Still, I'm satisfied by these 3 trivets from Brighton's Utility, a bonkers old plate that's all angles, or this tiny pendant that Edward honed from an old St. Christopher... even though it invites conversation with some of society's more cosmic characters!

Cold Snaps

I thought I got cold enough photographing last night's moonlit snow but there were so many visitors to the bird feeder this morning, I had to nip out and snap some more. I must've cut a pretty suspicious figure because no one flew by until I was gone again. Typical. I did take a heap of snowscape pics of the wooded hill behind us but they're even cheesier than these!

Tulips

Straight from the print-bed this week (via drying rack/guillotine/creaser) come 500 Tulips, my new favourite card. The vase and table cloth aren't based on anything actual, which is a shame, I'd kinda like to own them. Anyone would think I'm channelling the spirit of spring but I'll be out there celebrating today's snowfall... just as soon as I find those stupid-thick socks! 

150

Mmm, now, who best to illustrate 150 years of the London Underground this week; Enid Marx; Eduardo Paolozzi; Harry Beck; Edward Johnston or Charles Holden? Why not have some Marianne Straub from the V&A's understandably excellent archive.

Out of the Woods

Even though stationery buyers like to see samples a good few months in advance, we're pretty crap at designing out-of-season; it's so much easier drawing Christmas cards when you're knee-deep in Christmas.

Baubles aside, we've made a few other styles this last month, like this small series of woodcut cards (though, more honestly, they're collages). Not sure whether to print four-colours or just black'n'white like The Patterned Pals range they'll be replacing.

Though I'll sure be sorry to loose The Patterned Pals (alongside the other styles we've had printed elsewhere over the years), I'm convinced that they made a better economic model than an ecological one; hand-printing to order is simply too efficient!

Whatever the colour, I like the electrified 80s hedgehog best.