Nan-made objects

My sister-in-law is more creative than your sister-in-law. I guarantee it -- Men's Wearhouse style.


My sister-in-law is Nan. She's a bit artistic, a bit vintage, and a bit of a hipster (she hates being called a hipster. She's going to kill me in an obscure way that you've probably never heard of for even saying/typing that -- worth it). But it's all true. If you were to compare Nan and Shelley on the sister scale, I'd place Shelley at "cool" and Nan at "chic". I'm somewhere between "lame" and "last year", in case you were keeping score.

Back to Nan. Nan makes "things". Objects: Nan-made objects. Get it -- handmade. Nan-made. Ugh, apparently bad puns run in the Allison bloodline. Lucky for my 2053 offspring. It's taken a few years of "why aren't you selling these" and "when are you going to open a store", along with some light brow-beating, to get us to where we are with Nan today.

Nan has finally set-up shop. Well, kind of. Nan's in the process of opening a store on etsy.com. The store exists. Phase two is pictures of products. Phase three is excessive inventory because Nan's objects will sell. Then she'll open web doors officially.

Just to give you a warm-up, a preview, I thought I'd post some of her amazingness on the blog. A little because it's cool stuff. A lot because I'm proud. She's finally doing it.'Bout time.

Hair pins.

Brooches for sweaters, jackets, or to wear in your hair.

Vintage fabric and Pendleton wool coffee cozies. Because those cardboard ones aren't reusable. And these are. Plus they're cute. Really cute.


Moving away from her products to just general creativity: It'd be nice, in a perfect world, if Nan could tone down the creativity for Christmas. At least give me a fighting chance. My hope had always been that the artistic gene was genetic through osmosis, but after 8 year, I've given up. I suck. She presents presents just a tad better (hope you enjoyed reading that sentence. Little literary humor. Your Mis-Reading=My Pleasure: To Susie, From Susie).

Bread and butter pickles. Orange cranberry sauce.

Salted lavender short bread.

And her gifts were wrapped like this:

Oh yes, she made the poms. Hey Nancy, my present next Christmas would be for you to wrap with a blindfold on, one hand behind your back, hopping on your left foot, and utilizing NO tape. There. That'd level the playing field.

I'll let you know when Nan goes public with more bells and even more obnoxious whistles. Trust me. I can do worse than this. Much worse.

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