E-bollocks! Let's Go Out!

Last week was a bugger.  There is no dressing up this fact.  We endured a number of sleepless nights thanks to those intent on making a fast buck from our artwork on certain well known seller platforms.  Aside from the blatant rip-offs, we had one seller in Israel, who just waded in there with a screenshot of our advert – complete with our name and copyright symbol emblazoned across the image, and advertised it for twice the price! 

An original advert.  Or is it?

I’ve lost count of the number of forms we have submitted, the number of emails sent, to little avail.  The lack of support for those experiencing copyright infringement is staggering.  I’ve become an overnight expert on the subject and have quoted bite sized, easily digested snippets of key legal points to faceless customer services departments.  I’ve reported item numbers, included links for comparisons, reiterated over and over again that a design does not have to be copied in its entirety to breach someone’s copyright, only to wake up to the same standard email requesting yet further clarification, that we’ve submitted the wrong form, or, my personal favourite, one stating that “You cannot copyright an idea.”  

Image, not subject to copyright

I have been forced to explain that a sticker for example, is not simply an idea, but a tangible product and that original graphics and phrases are covered by a copyright the moment they are written or created.  

Kinky Melon HQ

So, finding ourselves swimming against a tide of copyright issues, a day out with these lovely people, Vicky and Jon aka Kinky Melon’s Retro Boutique, was just what we needed.  We headed to Walsall Art Gallery, taking in the Turner Exhibition and getting ever-so-gently reprimanded for touching a piece resembling a bin bag full of rubbish.  Lunch was half a bottle of rose wine and a delicious vegan curry (I appear to have developed a dairy intolerance in my old age.  After all the ice cream and chocolate I’ve consumed in my lifetime, I would expect my body to have embraced it and my blood to be half cream).  Happy and sleepy (me), we walked back to our car, bathed in autumn sunshine.

I don’t know about you, but I wish autumn – the most vibrant season of the year for a nano second – would stick around for longer.  I’m talking about the magically short window of time when trees telepathically agree a plan to shed 90% of their leaves in 2 days.  I’m talking about clear blue skies, weather reporters referring to “unseasonably warm temperatures”, brightly coloured, odd shaped pumpkins (3 of which are sitting on our garden steps, waiting to go under the knife, including a white "Ghost Pumpkin"), windfall fruit and the associated pies, crumbles and experimental cider, Halloween, the first hint of wood smoke in the air, fireworks and gripping TV dramas.  I wish these autumn days would stick around until, say, 21^st May, at which point an extended period of unbroken sunshine will commence, cartoon blue birds will appear and someone will ensure that I am never more than a metre away from a mojito.

Spooky sky

Leaving aside yesterday’s blip, courtesy of Storm Ophelia and a daytime sky straight out of Star Wars, one downside to the elevated temperature is having to try on steampunk costumes.  

Photo courtesy of Shropshire Star:  Ironbridge covered in scaffolding

These outfits appear to comprise endless layers.  Dressing up in full steampunk was the last thing I felt like, but nevertheless found myself doing, on Saturday afternoon in Ironbridge.  Tourists from all over the globe visit this World Heritage Site.  We go for steampunk clothes and charity shop finds.

Today, after another sparring session with Ebay, I went through the seemingly disparate steampunk elements I’ve acquired so far and decided that they can all be worn together after all.  So, top to toe, this is what I’m going with at Chepstow Steampunk Winter Festival:-

The Top Hat.

Who doesn’t have a vintage top hat in their wardrobe?  Mine just needs some temporary embellishments.

The Jacket.

On loan from Kinky Melon, it is 80s, but don’t tell the hardcore steampunk brigade.  I don’t care – it’s cropped, velvet, has crazy shoulders and looks the part. 

The Blouse.

This Ralph Lauren Sport blouse was a steal at £4.50 from a charity shop in the village.  The ruffles were hard to resist and are a key element of the steampunk look.  It was the first item I bought.

The Dress.

With steampunk dresses often commanding prices upwards of £70, I snapped up this £25 number from a vintage store in Ironbridge.

The Tights.

Black and white vertical stripy tights for a fiver - Beetlejuice meets vintage circus.

The Boots.

Still undecided between red velvet and brown granny.

A Pair of Lace Gloves.

Gloves from Hat-Trix

Another £5 bargain from Etsy, which saves me the stress of digging out my cobweb covered sewing machine, shredding a piece of lace, swearing at said machine and crying hysterically, before going online and order a £5 paid from Etsy.

Now all I have to do is steampunk up everyone else in this house.

Five Go Camping at Berkeley Castle

Saturday dawned and with it, the realisation that the end was nigh.  No, not the hidden planet that was making the news - supposedly heading for an apocalyptic collision with Earth on Saturday! For us, Saturday marked the end of 2017’s festival season: Berkeley VW Show.

Entrance to Berkeley VW Show

The plan was for Gaz to travel down on Saturday and set up, ably assisted by Brutebox’s Baz and Issy, who were on a five-go-mad-in-the-country weekend (five being Gareth, Baz, Issy and their two dogs, Bob and Dexter).  For once, plans ran like clockwork. 

Brutebox's Bus

Weather forecast?  Fair.

Traffic?  Light.

Automotive mechanical issues?  None.

Location?  Stunning.

Local pub? Tick.

Company? Alright.

 By 8.00 pm, Voodoo Street was set up, closed up and the famous five were ensconsed in the local pub just down the road in a village called Ham (no, I’m not making it up).

With no evening meals on offer at the local, the famous five were instead offered plastic tubs of food left over from the lunchtime service, which included chunks of bread and cheese, grapes and cold meats.  These were enjoyed around the campfire later with some slightly inebriated word-association games.  So far, so Enid Blyton.  That is, until Baz and Issy decided to turn in for the night. Gaz still had some adventuring left to do.

Backdrop for the weekend

 The sound of music and frivolity floating down from the castle and across the meadows spoke to Gaz and he decided to explore.

Meanwhile, at home, surrounded by f*!&ing enormous spiders, I was busy building my own fortress.  During one of many mobile phone conversations on Saturday night, comparing notes, I was fortunate enough to enjoy the full audible experience of Gaz very nearly falling into the moat.  

A Ha-ha

He had assumed that the black chasm in front of him was a ha-ha and had considered jumping it, before realising (too late) that it was actually the castle moat.  After a slide and a scramble to avert disaster, the result was badly nettled wrists and injured pride. 

A moat

At home, I had sealed off the bathroom where my 8-legged nemesis was last seen loitering and Caleb had built a wall of cardboard to cover the gap beneath the cooker to head off its hairy mate.  Some time around 11 pm, Gaz and I both admitted defeat and went to bed, 70 miles apart.

Thankfully, Sunday went off without a hitch.  I arrived at lunchtime (ish), delayed by road closures resulting from Velo Birmingham, the 100-mile charity cycle ride.

The weather held, trade was steady and the company was good. 

As usual, there were some classic rides, including this non-VW but stunning classic E-Type... 

 

...and this stunning, steampunk-inspired interior, photographed with our steampunk props.

After the show ‘n’ shine, we said our goodbyes and started to pack away.

High jinks

On the journey home, we noted the falling leaves, marking the gentle slide into Autumn.  We’re looking forward to some free weekends, catch-ups with friends and time to seek inspiration for new product designs.  

That said, we know it won’t take long before we start to get itchy feet again.  Who knows where we might turn up?

Dungeons and Dragons

Why is it when we have a packed calendar, we get the fear and yet the prospect of free weekends seems exciting but also daunting?  With freedom of choice comes indecision.  How will we fill our time?  Where will we go?  Somehow, passing the time doing anything short of amazing feels like wasted time, when so many weekends have been accounted for. Panic sets in. 

I call it “the comedown.”  Regularly engaging with our supporters/friends galvanises the feeling that we are on the right track with Voodoo Street, but take away that dialogue; the festival vibes and suddenly we feel cut adrift.  Out of touch. 

Processing orders online is anonymous.  As grateful as we are for them, it’s just not the same as engaging with a friendly face. 

T-shirts are T-shirts at the end of the day, or so you might think, but once you have been privy to a man’s 20 minute deliberation about whether the large or extra large tee “hangs” better from his neck, you realise that:

a)      It’s a myth that women are a nightmare to shop with and;

b)      Buying a standard fit T-shirt is obviously a more exact science than either of us ever realised!

So whilst receiving an online clothing order still offers the usual thrill of having been chosen, it’s now also filled with the trepidation of sending it out there and wondering if the neck will be ok! 

Touch wood, we’ve never had any issues with clothing sold online and love it when people take time out to photograph their purchases and tag us in them.  It makes it worthwhile.  Here are a few recent ones.

Photo courtesy of official_jr_skating

Thank god for Instagram and Facebook!  Those who choose to interact with us on social media may not realise it, but they are like co-workers – our own little cyber office.  By day, we’re beavering away in our dungeon, at Voodoo Towers and this contact with the outside world gives us a buzz.  (There’s only so long you can spend chatting to the postman without coming off as creepy J)

Lee Foulkes in his Voodoo Street Urban Army Cap

At this point, we’ve sold one of our stickers to nearly every corner of the globe at some point and have encountered some pretty “out there” surnames.  However, on Friday night a particularly familiar name popped up on an order of stickers.  After a little Internet research, we discovered that it was indeed the son of a certain Cypriot born member of BBC’s Dragon’s Den.  Not necessarily worthy of champagne popping, but definitely a talking point.  Another swiftly followed this order, from one Martin Kemp, although we’re doubtful that it was Spandau Ballet’s bassist.

Photo Courtesy of Steve and Cat Bath

Vespa Love

So, back to our free weekend.  What did we do?  Well, after a week of stock taking, updating our online store, washing rain battered odds and sods and reconciling a mountain of receipts, we were kept busy with family birthday celebrations on Friday. Saturday’s torrential rain and consequent flooding also made us grateful that we weren’t standing in the middle of a field somewhere, although the enforced time indoors did result in the beginnings of a new little project for Voodoo Street.  We also spent a little time on a design that we periodically tinker with.  (Hopefully we’ll be able to share these new bits and pieces with you very soon). We rounded off Saturday with a curry and beers with friends.

Can you buy grey jelly?

In other news, our favourite time of year - Halloween - is fast approaching and already, ghoulish Chinese tat is creeping into our house.  So far, we have some tea light holders, a jelly mould in the shape of a brain and 2 pumpkins.  There will be more.  This year we seriously need to up our game on the pumpkin front.  Both of last year’s gourds were hurriedly carved on Halloween and in all honesty would probably have looked better if we had taken a machete to them blindfolded!

Incidentally, in an update to my last blog, we discovered this sign nailed to a tree in the woods.  Our familiar outlook of tall woodland pines at the end of our garden (a view we fell in love with when we first looked at the house, which looks like a location from a Stephen King novel) is clearly not going to be around for much longer.  It looks as though their days are numbered.  Very sad.

Today marks the fourth sunny day in a row, which makes it hard to focus when I have a day of admin ahead of me.  Warm as it is by day, the temperatures seem to be plummeting at night in these parts and as we all know, the drop in evening autumn temperature marks the arrival of my nemesis – the spider.  I can handle zombies, ghosts and anything else Halloween throws at me, but I find these creatures truly terrifying.  I’m not a fan of insects in general; anything bigger than an aphid increases my heart rate and not in a good way.  We have had some roasters in our house: unnaturally hairy, too many legs, muscles ffs!  Gaz has to carry out a night time “sweep” before I go upstairs.  Maybe I should consider hypnosis.

An accurate artist's impression of a typical spider found in our house with frightening regularity

Anyway, onwards and upwards!  Til next time!

Nobody's Fool!

It’s April 1^st and we made it through the morning unscathed, managing to avoid becoming fools for the day, although there was a close call when a friend posted a photograph of herself having undergone a quite dramatic hair transformation.  She is an artist and so her Rosemary’s Baby/Mia Farrow pixie crop wouldn’t have been a complete surprise, but something just didn’t ring true!  Also now questioning whether the re-christening of Wolverhampton Station as “Wolverine” Station for one day in honour of the new X-Men film is legit?!

Some very real news is that we’re testing the children’s market.  Why should the little terrors be excluded from wearing Voodoo Street apparel?  We’re hearing reports of how difficult it can be to find really good kids tees, by which we mean, quality of the kind you can repeatedly wash and wear (maybe even get away without ironing) and good design that kids want to wear – not just recycled, rips offs of old designs.  From the feedback we’ve received, we hope we’ve achieved that. 

Currently, we offer two designs (limited stock) for the age group with the most discerning fashion taste - 8-10 year olds.  This may surprise some of you, but in our opinion, this is the age when children decide that they are no longer happy to just wear clothes their parents have chosen for them.  It’s the age that marks the first bold steps towards attaining a unique fashion identity.  While many teenagers have the desire to fit in and wear similar clothes to their peers, we’ve encountered one 9 year-old child who is adamant that his favourite colours are red and green.  Nothing else will cut it.  He knows what suits him.  Another was keen to wear the design that his friends had not picked in order to stand out from the crowd! 

We’re now receiving enquiries from parents of children in other age brackets, so watch this space…and at £10.00 plus postage; we think they’re a bargain!