Today I Ironed My Skirt

Perhaps stung by admitting how distracted I become at certain stages of painting something, I found myself ironing my painting skirt before I put it on this morning.

I have a pink gypsy type skirt that has become visibly mended and patched up. So I use it for days in the studio because it doesn't matter if it gets paint on it. It is a flouncy, lovely skirt, and in days gone by when it was new, I looked fancy and pretty in it. Now it is reserved to make me feel fancy and pretty in the studio, but it needs ironing. In the old days, I would iron it and step into it with anticipation of turning heads and making other rather rather expressive arty types want one too. So this once glorious skirt, needing ironing, used in the studio in a rather haphazard way to raise the Artistic Self Esteem, gets worn and washed and worn and washed and it has become the norm for it to look crumpled and rather slap happy.

This morning I picked it up, newly washed, and had one of those little insights into one's psyche. If, I thought, I iron this skirt, and wear it in the studio, I will feel lovely and fresh and who knows what amazing painting I will do as a result.

So I ironed it. Carefully avoiding the rips and mends, and going lovingly around the paint stains, I produced an item that when I had finished, looked glorious, elderly and elegant. So I put it on still warm from the ironing board, and today I feel I can do anything.

As a result, my day today cannot faze me. The painter and decorator arrives at 9am. The plumbers at 10am. Doctors appointment 11am. Kids coming home at 4.00 and 5.00, lured home today by the promise of a real dinner cooked by me. (What? Your mother will do that for you? Goodness, mine doesn't. Tell me, what kind of skirt is she wearing?) I am going next door now to start to paint the People in my Secret Commission. That will give it away should anyone who knows them see it. Unlikely, though, in my neck of the woods.

So now I flounce away, in a swirl of pink, ironed, stained and patched majesty, to my table to paint in detail three figures, two dogs, a dark toblerone, a fishing rod and some reference to racing. I have painted the enormously complicated architectural background, and this is the easy stuff now. But I would say that wouldn't I, wearing a magic skirt like this.