Welcome (once again) to Mrs Bee's Emporium!

Hello gang

I haven't been around for an age - I am a bad blogger. I will hang my head in shame. I shall endeavor to do better.

So, for those of you new to our blog, and to old friends, I thought I would provide some background with an interview we recently did for a craft magazine.

Catch you later

How Did You Get Into Your Business?

I think its fair to say it's taken me a while to find my niche in life. Creative subjects were never taken seriously by my school, or by my parents (I was always guided towards more academic subjects) so I never gave myself the luxury of choosing to study them. I loved English and found my creative expression in reading and creative writing. As I progressed through the system the career suggestions that seemed available to me were always the same: journalist, teacher, librarian.


I did work experience in a library and quickly realised that it wasn't for me. I worked for a local newspaper, then a local TV station as a junior researcher. I loved the work - it was frenetic and stimulating - but I was uncomfortable with how some of the individuals were treated once their time in the spotlight was over. After this I trained to teach English. There were aspects I loved - I am a people person and always enjoyed the interaction with students, parents and other teachers. I also loved creating beautiful learning materials. I found I had an aptitude for working with disruptive, less able students and bringing them on-board, usually by using crafts. 

I taught secondary school for 15 years, moving into Senior Management. I spent less and less time doing the creative stuff I enjoyed and my love for the job waned. Instead I indulged my creativity at home, baking, sewing, quilting, crocheting and knitting. I especially loved giving home-made gifts to family and friends.

In 2014 the school that Dom, my husband, and I worked at was taken over by an Academy chain. I realised very quickly that I would be unable to work in the new manner that was required and maintain my mental health, so I quit without anything to go to - the first time in my life I had taken this bold step. Six weeks later, my husband was made redundant. This was unexpected and a very frightening time - we had a son about to start university, a 10 year old boy and a 3 year old daughter - and now no family income at all.

We used the opportunity to take stock of our lives. We are both creative souls who had been guided towards academia, so hadn't really explored the gifts we'd been born with. Dom has always enjoyed working with his hands - making beautiful tables and wooden bowls in his spare time, and he's an expert DIYer. I'd had many private commissions for work over the years, which I had handmade in my spare time. We had always dreamed of having a smallholding and escaping the rat race together, which we achieved, in part, when we moved from London to a 200 year old cottage near the East Yorkshire coast.

We decided that it was time to take a huge leap of faith and believe that we could develop a way of life earning a living using our hands. We hoped that would provide a simple way of life that would allow us to work hard and bring up our children peacefully and quietly. We didn't - and don't - aspire to be millionaires. We want to work creatively and imaginatively, linking our hearts and our heads in honest hard work, living for the moment.

One thing that became evident right from the conception of Mrs Bee's Emporium (so named because our surname is Boynton, and we are beekeepers) was that we wanted to make a positive contribution to the world. Mrs Bee's Emporium came from a dark part of our lives, so we wanted the change to embody positivity; to be a ray of sunshine in an otherwise grey day. We were happy to work in our business and we want to pay that positivity forwards. We do that through innovative design, humour, top notch quality (we want you to love what you buy!), through outstanding customer service and through charitable work, such as our SATs Stars Project (we sent 200 stars and handwritten letters of encouragement out, free of charge, to 11 year olds who were anxious about sitting their school SATs tests.)

- What is your background?

In addition to the above, I trained to be a seamstress. I have taken courses in tailoring and bridal wear. I especially enjoy making items from my own patterns.

- What makes your process unique?

We try to make the act of giving as pleasurable as it is to receive a gift. We work closely with our customers to co-create a future family heirloom. We pride ourselves on top notch customer service, which I thinks makes us stand out from the competition. We want our customers to kinda feel part of the family.  It should be a pleasure to work with us. Our gifts can't be bought from anyone but us, so they are absolutely unique and, of course, we ensure they are of the highest quality. Our customers trust us to help them express their love for their nearest and dearest. It's such a blessing. We can't wait to start work each day!

Is My Body Too Bluetylicious for You, Babe? Spencer Tunick's Sea Of Hull #seaofhull

I've been putting off writing this blog for three days: how on earth can I sum up this weekend in mere words? It feels as though I have travelled 1,000 miles and more.

In case you're wondering what I'm on about - in Hull, our home town, internationally renowned artist Spencer Tunick created an art installation like no other. On Saturday 9th July, 3500 people descended to pose nude in the city, painted in shades of blue, to represent the sea.

Spencer Tunick directing the models

I am not the sort of person who poses nude.

I am 42.
I am several stones overweight.
I am recovering from serious illness and major surgery
I am saggy, wrinkly, cellulite-y; I have the stretch marks of three pregnancies.
My body is nothing like the bodies you see in the media. It is wrecked.
My body is a temple to carb living.
I have absolutely zero desire to be a nudist.
I am normally a bit shy.

So, you may well ask, why did you decide to take part in such an event? I'll tell you why. It's been a pretty terrible 18 months - not just for me but also for my husband Dominic and for my brother, Mark. In the last 18 months we have experienced the following:

Dom and I were both made redundant from our teaching jobs after an acutely stressful hostile takeover. Dom had a breakdown. I suffered with anxiety and depression. I coincidentally ended up with acute kidney failure as a result of undiagnosed chronic kidney failure, and lost the use of one of my kidneys permanently. The good one got scarred. I've blogged about it before, but this means I wore a catheter for 6 months and now have to self catheterise up to 8 times a day. In addition to this, after 9 months of a treatment with a chemo drug for another illness, I had a radical hysterectomy. Mark split from his wife and, eventually got divorced, having come to live with us for a couple of months whilst he got himself together. Our Dad was diagnosed with dementia, and our Mum had a knee replacement; they both needed care. Our eldest son started university and left home. Our youngest daughter started school. Mark sold his home and moved house twice. We'd applied for several jobs and had been rejected over and over. Funds were running low. We had started our own business. We had no idea what was coming next...

It was one Saturday near Easter when Mark, Dom and I were surveying the damage and wondering how the very hell we were going to get things moving in the right direction again. That was when we heard that Spencer Tunick was planning his installation in our home city. What a challenge that would be. We could do that, right?! It'd be scary as hell, but we were going to have to put ourselves out of our comfort zones and say yes to the world, right? Right?!

That rhetoric seemed pretty weak when the alarm went at 2am on Saturday 9th July and I surveyed what was ahead. Was Hull ready for this jelly? Jelly flood, in my case, more like. It was unlikely *anyone* was ready for this body - and I was steadfastly failing to channel my inner Beyoncé. Plus I was going to have to see my brother naked for the first time since circa 1982. Awkward. The post Brexit fortnight had been depressing and I was not feeling cheery. Would I be cold? I packed a onesie, a hoodie, a blanket and two flasks of hot tea and reluctantly got in the car, with a cold, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Had I shaved my legs? Would my pubic topiary be sufficient? What if I got stuck next to a smelly person? What was worse - feet or bums?

3am, before we undressed

At Queen's Gardens in central Hull  amongst 3500 other nervous nudes-to-be, I was surprised by how normal everyone seemed. There was a diverse mix of ages - from 18 through to 80+. There seemed an equal split between men and women, and no-one looked particularly pervy. 

When Spencer Tunick gave us the order to strip off at 4.20am, a palpable nervous intake of breath took hold like a Mexican wave. I decided the only approach that made sense was to think "stuff it" and be my bravest self. I stripped off quickly and applied the blue paint hurriedly - modestly covering boobs first (which I realised with horror might look like I was touching myself up in public rather over-eagerly. Why did I not know the correct etiquette for this sort of thing?!)

We were B1 - fully committed Smurf.

Now, I'll be honest, when I imagined seeing other people naked, I imagined it in a full frontal capacity only. The reality is far more 3D. The first view I had was of several men, from behind, bending down to rub blue paint on their feet. Hairy arses, dangly bits, back drapes.... I'm going to stop here. Weirdly I felt slightly amused, in a benevolent sort of way, and not horrified - it actually put me at ease. I felt rather warmly towards these people who were evidently so vulnerable in front of me - flappy bits and all. After all, I had more than enough wobbly bits of my own. But there were plenty wth bodies like mine, and I adored them all for it.

The crowd blue-d up from their legs upwards.  The paint was applied like sunscreen, it was cold and we applied it to ourselves. It went everywhere - belly buttons, hair, inside your ears, the soles of your feet, under your boobs, in your creases, up your bum crack etc. There were some awkward giggles when everyone realised that they'd need help from someone to reach their backs. This was done in an efficient and as British a manner as possible, with everyone steadfastly refusing to think of the places those hands had been moments earlier.  What happens in Queen's Gardens stays in Queen's Gardens.

The beautiful Queen's Gardens at dawn

Collectively, we marched from Queen's Gardens towards the fountain rose garden, thousands of us in shades of blue, jade and turquoise, like Greek statues; kind of not human. Like extras in a Doctor Who shoot. We were the same; we were one. We were all of us vulnerable. Tattoos were covered, hair was covered, jewellery was off, shoes were off. Not one person had a body like those you see all the bloody time in the media. There were lumps and bumps, dangly bits, cellulite, hair, no hair, scars. There were people in wheelchairs and people on crutches. Everyone was imperfect - and so wonderfully, so magically perfect at the same time. For the first time in my life, I realised that it wasn't me who didn't fit in, it was everyone who didn't fit in. It lit a glow inside me that is still burning. It changed me, and I can't quite explain how.

The nakedness only felt strange for a few minutes. After that, the nervous chatter took over, and we were all gossiping, cracking jokes, giggling and taking the mickey out of each other. The atmosphere was electric. It felt like we were about to do something monumental. Like we could do anything.

Queen's Gardens surrounding the fountain

There were drones! Nobody warned me about that. Drones filming us from the sky! As we marched into the fountain for the first shoot, I noticed AN ENTIRE OPEN TOPPED BUS of photographers! This was not something I had considered before. I was terrified! I prayed to every God that I could think of that I wouldn't meet someone I knew. (I didn't.) I prayed that I wouldn't be recognisable in any photos published in the media (I believe I am not. I have not looked too closely and intend to keep it that way. It was enough that I participated - I do not wish to look at my own soft folds.)

There was magic in the air though. In the simple act of undressing, several layers of meaning settled upon me and my tribe.

Before I tell you what it was, let me tell you what it was not. It was not sexual. There were no random erections. It was about as sexy as taking your Mum to meet your work colleagues. Yes, I know this goes against lots of people's expectations and even some people's hopes (some people who commented negatively on the Facebook threads and newspaper stories have obviously thought about this subject very, very hard. Excuse the pun.) Sorry to disappoint, but it was not sexy at all.

These are the things it was:

Firstly, it made everyone the same. It became blindingly obvious really bloody quickly that we all collude to make social conventions. Once everyone had their clothes off, and we'd all got used to that, then it was hard to think of a need to have clothes, really, aside from the weather. With the blue paint covering tattoos, hair colour and all distinguishing marks, we all became one. You know what really stood out? People's eyes. I'm pretty sure that most of us didn't look at one another genitals at all once the novelty had worn off. They were just not as interesting as people's eyes or people's smiles.

Secondly, we were all vulnerable. We had all taken a huge risk to be there, naked. We were all outside of our comfort zones.  It was a great leveller. It didn't matter if you were rich or poor - nobody knew anyway, because you didn't have clothes or jewellery to convey your social status. It didn't matter if you were male or female - we all talked together - possibly more comfortably than when we had our clothes on. It didn't matter if you were young or old - it didn't matter if you were big or small in any sense of the word. We were all perfectly imperfect.

We were 3200 strong. There were enough of us to feel invincible, like an army. We had all overcome barriers of some sort to even be there, and it felt like we could achieve anything. We worked together to achieve something bigger than ourselves. We were beyond ourselves, above ourselves; a force of nature. It was a feeling that it's hard to come back from.

Over 3000 strong; when people become shapes

Thirdly, it was brilliantly fun and ever so slightly irreverent. It helped hugely that Spencer Tunick and his sidekick, Steve, didn't seem to get our Yorkshire humour. The crowd gently pulled them down a peg or two in a very British way. Whenever a shot was taking a long time to set up, the crowd started mooing "STEEEEVE." I believe it was in reference to Spencer himself, on top of the BBC building, who, sounding rather stressed, screamed into the microphone "WHERE'S Steve?!?!" Neither Spencer nor Steve understood the bellows of "STEEEEEVE" that marked the rest of the day. We did, though. It pleased us. It pleased us more that they were perplexed by it.

Despite the gentle piss taking, we all remained very British throughout. During one set, once lined up, we were told to bend at the waist and touch our toes. Pretty much every single person in the crowd turned around and apologised to the person behind them for what they were about to experience...

Spencer was not as adept at moving people around as one might expect. For example, he could not remember the names of some of the key buildings. Frustrated, he shouted "GUYS! Look  <flap hands> over THERE!" The crowd then obliged by shouting "GUILD HALL!" in unison whenever Spencer failed to remember the name of a landmark. Similarly, when he screamed at some man "DUDE! YOU HAVE SHOES ON! Go to the back" the entire crowd did a pantomime "BOOOOOO!" We all had no shoes on, why should this schmuck cheat the system?!

STEEEEVE

My three favourite comedy moments were these:

1) When, in exasperation at having to move us cattle, Spencer Tunick shouted "if you can find a hole, fill it!" This was not the right thing to say to 3200 naked good Yorkshire folk. "WAY HEY!" came the good natured cheer.

2) Spencer was having problems getting us to fill the huge Alfred Gelder street evenly (for this amazing picture). Spencer didn't want the rows that we seemed to naturally form in. We had walked forwards and backwards, and twisted from the waist with our arms out on several occasions trying to get it right. Then, we had come too far forwards. Hundreds of people had to walk backwards, and we all did literally walk backwards, in silence, awaiting further instructions. One sound rang loudly and coincidentally around the street - the "vehicle reversing" sound from one chap's electric wheelchair. It seemed brilliantly apt.

3) Our fourth picture location was on the Scale Lane swing bridge. As an aside, the bridge surface was SO SHARP. It was actually incredibly painful to walk on. (I found being barefoot more disconcerting than being naked. One man I spoke to mourned the loss of his watch. A source close to Spencer told me that he often finds people have socks as their comfort blanket and hate to take them off. Funny how its the little things that bother you in the end.) We had quite a walk from the city centre to the scale lane bridge, along cobbled streets. The city had been shut off to pedestrians, and incredibly well swept, so we hadn't had any spectators. When we approached the Scale Lane bridge at dawn we came across a balcony full of young people, still drinking and partying. They were somewhat surprised to see a Blue Army invasion and were recording it on their smart phones. En masse, the blue nudes erupted into a chant of "OFF! OFF! OFF!" To give them credit, the gentlemen of the party happily whipped off their tee shirts and twirled them above their heads like cowboys.

Our view this morning of the #seaofhull 😂 pic.twitter.com/htsuc3MJwn

— Sam (@samwisecooke) July 9, 2016

There is so much more I could tell you about the hijinks and fun - and the sense of compassion and belonging that all of us various shades of blue bodies felt. It's not too grand to say that it gave us a sense of what a community could be if we all pulled together with honesty and humour. That, in itself, was life changing. So here are some photos of us once we were back together and feeling elated.  

Dom, Mark and I attended the second day of the shoot too - 200 people in a secret location on the banks of the Humber. This was a much more intimate experience (quite literally in this picture, when I had a pair of feet near my left cheek and an old man's willy on my right - like a caterpillar taking a rest on a leaf.) These were the images that were taken. I got sunburned and I was frozen by the rain and winds on Humberside. None of that mattered. 

During the second shoot, Spencer Tunick mentioned that he believed we were taking part in the shoot so we'd receive a second print of his work. Whilst its a nice touch that we each get an official print, my reasons for being involved in the Sea of Hull could not be further from the truth. I participated to challenge myself to something I felt was almost unthinkable. I knew it was a bucket list task as soon as I heard about the installation. I participated to experience being part of thousands of people who were also pushing themselves outside of their comfort zone. I did it to be a part of something bigger than me. I did it to belong. It was the nudes that wielded the power, during those early hours of Saturday 9th July. It felt like we could take on the world.

Whilst I don't think a future life of naturism is ahead of me,  I'll never again worry about wearing a sleeveless blouse, or beat myself up because I don't look like all the models I ever see. I am determined to keep doing the things that scare me. As soon as I shrink away from something, it will go on my bucket list.

I am stronger than I thought.
My soul will always be blue.

Another way to get a SATs Star!

I have been amazed at the interest in, and demand for, our SATs stars and letters (if you want to know what they are, click here.) I'm sad that they're needed, in all honesty, but I kind of see it as a protest. A positive protest. I like that idea; I hope it catches on. Positive action really, really makes a difference. Protesting against testing in education should be like a drop of water that keeps drip drip dripping on the government until it becomes so frustrating that they can ignore it no longer. I really, really want to be a part of that.

Dom and I are working hard, but we are 2 people with children of our own and only 24 hours in the day. Dom has machine sewn and cut out, and I have trimmed, cut through, turned out, stuffed and stitched shut 49 stars so far today. We have another 100 to tackle in front of the telly tonight. We are only going to produce a few hundred at most before the tests start. Since we shut our books last night I have received far, far too many messages from people whose children would benefit from a SATs star (we hope to open the books again later in the week, so keep checking back!) This has been a source of great sadness and frustration for us both.

Then a fab lady messaged me and made a suggestion. Could she make some of our SATs Stars for her child's class? 

This got me thinking.

I'll be honest, I was a bit worried at first, but I could see the potential. This project will have most power if we all work collectively so, rather than it just being lots of small clusters of people making stars, we all link up together in the same online place to show how many children have been helped with a SATs Star and how many parts of the country have been covered. Together we make a bigger impact. We can start to make people listen if we link together.

However, this means giving away a part of our business. Our logo, our artwork, our name. To people we have never met. Dom and I have invested all of our savings and countless hours of hard work developing our little business. Its a family business and our only source of income. So, without it, we're stuffed. The stakes are high.

Scary.

Then I thought, you know what? I believe in people. Good people are contacting me. Good things are happening. I need to put my money where my mouth is, in the true spirit of "pay it forward." So, I hope you'll understand, I have written a few guidelines that I'd like you to read and sign if you want to make your own SATs Stars for groups of children (you don't have to do this if you only want to make one for your child.) 

I'm dreaming, but: we could have school craft classes where children make SATs Stars for other children in their school. Parents and PTAs who make them for whole classes. Brownies and Guides and Cubs and Scouts who make them to support other children. Why not? It would totally rock, right?

So, I am going to publish my pattern on here in the form of a tutorial, absolutely in full, no copyright held back. I will publish it tomorrow, 5th May 2016. If you are only making one star, for your child, you don't need to read the next bit. Download your pattern tomorrow, read the instructions and off you go. Please comment and/or post on the FB group with a photo and let us know how you get on. Remember, together we have a bigger voice.

If you want to make a whole bunch of SATs Stars for lots of children, then please read on.

These guidelines may look a bit formal, but they are designed to ensure a few important things: quality, that the free "pay it forward" essence continues, data protection for parents whose children receive the stars, some protection of our business branding, transparency for anyone who encounters a SATs Star or the SATs Star project and safeguarding. I hope you agree that this is OK.

Please download a copy of the file "The SATs Stars Project Agreement" and sign it (digitally will do) then email it to the email address on the form.

SATs Stars Project Agreement (please sign and email us before starting)

We have also put together a handy cheat sheet for hand writing the notes of encouragement:

Letter Writing Cheat Sheet

And here is a sample of a note we have written. They don't need to be long. The just need to be positive and full of impact. This is not the platform for grumbling about the tests or the government (not that you'd do that, I am sure)

If you have any questions, please get in touch (my social media links are at the top right of this blog). I will be making stars, but I'll do my very best to get to you quickly.

Keep smiling

Claire

SATs Stars - The Project

Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, do you know how loved you are?

Due to huge demand, we have now closed the SATs Star List. We will send stars to everyone who joined before 6pm, 3/5/16. We will probably reopen the list again later in the week, but we didn't want to commit to more stars than we can make. We don't want to make promises we can't keep, especially as there are just 2 of us working on these, and we have children of our own. Please keep checking the Facebook page for updates - we will publish on there when the list re-opens.

Thank you so much for your interest, I wish we could help everyone; some of the stories we have been sent are heartbreaking. I will post a tutorial on this blog tomorrow, so you can have a go at making a star yourself.

Big love to worried parents, exhausted teachers and, most of all, our little stars.

Claire and Dom x

PS - nearly 3000 people have visited this blog in 24 hours. AMAZING.

Hello! I am Claire, from Mrs Bee's Emporium. I run my small giftware business with my husband, Dominic. We have recently left the teaching profession after a combined 30 years of service, because we do not agree with the current culture of constant testing and the stress it puts our children and our teachers under.

Our son, Charlie, is in year 6 and about to take his key stage 2 SATs. Charlie's 10 years old. He and his friends should be out playing and climbing trees, exploring, playing football and generally enjoying their childhoods and learning through play. Instead Charlie has cried every night this week, and had several nightmares, because he's overwhelmed by the expectations placed on him at school.

ENOUGH.

This isn't a criticism of Charlie's teacher, or his school, by the way. We know they are working as hard as they possibly can, like hamsters in wheels, and that they are probably more stressed than the children. Let me be very clear: the problem is with governmental policy.

We wanted to do something to help. We are speaking up and arguing against the tests at every opportunity. We have signed the petitions. However, we wanted to do something for the children who are facing these tests.

This is when we had the idea for the SATs Stars.

Last week, whilst sewing a commissioned piece of work, I made a cushion shaped like a star. I designed the pattern myself and, as always, made a test piece first. Charlie spotted it and quickly claimed it as his own. We noticed that is gave him comfort, because it's soft and tactile. That seemed incredibly important, especially this week. The symbol of the star also seemed appropriate. Our children will still be stars, regardless of what the test says about them.

How can I get one?

If your child is about to undergo SATs and you'd like a star for him or her, we will send one in the post free of charge, with a handwritten note of encouragement. That's it - all we ask is that you Paypal us enough money to cover postage, the Paypal fee and the envelope. You don't get many things for free, do you?

We just want to pay it forward.

If you'd like a star, please fill in the form at the bottom of this post. I will ask you to Paypal £1.25 to cover postage to the UK.

We will endeavour to get your stars made and posted First Class ASAP. Please be patient if demand is high - we will keep you informed.

How much do they cost?

SATs Stars are entirely free of charge. We just ask parents to cover the postage, which is £1.25 First Class in the UK. We will do our absolute best to make sure we get them to your child in time for SATs week.

All we request is that you like and share our Facebook page and we'd love it if you signed up to our email newsletter. HOWEVER, THERE IS NO REQUIREMENT TO DO THIS - we are sending out SATs stars without requiring anything in return except the postage.

Feel free to share this with your friends, your children's friends and everyone you know! We want to share the love.

With lots of love - especially to you parents, children and teachers who are involved in these ridiculous tests. Stay optimistic and keep smiling.

Fistbump to all you parents going through this too, and double fistbump for the teachers. It sucks.

Claire x

**** UPDATE, 2/5/16, MIDNIGHT. YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING. WE'VE HAD 50 SIGNUPS IN THE FIRST HOUR. THIS IS BEYOND OUR WILDEST EXPECTATIONS. AS YOU CAN SEE, WE ARE JUST 2 PEOPLE RUNNING A SMALL BUSINESS AND THE SATS START IN 7 DAYS. THEREFORE, WE ARE GOING TO HAVE TO LIMIT THE STARS TO THE FIRST 200. WE WILL ASK EVERYONE WE KNOW TO HELP OUT, AND WE WILL RELEASE MORE STARS AS AND WHEN WE CAN MAKE THEM. I am going to add a section to our form called "letter." If you are past number 200, and you say yes to a letter, we will send a printed letter giving encouragement, and refund your money, except for the cost of a first class stamp. There is no obligation to accept this, just click "no" for a full refund.

I do hope you understand, and I am sorry for anyone we disappoint. We will do our level best to get to as many people as we can over the next 7 days.

Just, wow.

I'm going to send a copy of these comments to my MP and the government as well. They're breaking my heart. ****

UPDATE 2 - 3/5/16, 7.45am
I have literally hundreds of messages to get through! Please be patient, I will get to everyone.
If you're struggling to pay postage for more than one star, please Paypal any extra postage to claire.boynton@yahoo.co.uk. I will work on the form once the children are in school.

As I need to make the stars and write the notes, I will be responding to messages at 9am, lunchtime and 7pm. Please don't worry if you haven't heard from me, I will get back to you. I do need to limit when I deal with messages though, otherwise I won't get any stars made, packaged or shipped. Thank you for your understanding.

If you're having problems with an email newsletter popup, I will also disable this once the children are at school. But there should be a small button called "close" or "X" to the top right which you can click to make it go away.