Top Drawer

When I applied for a space at Spotted, Top Drawer's new talent section, I really hadn't thought it through. I recklessly decided to take part in the UK's biggest home and gift trade show on the spur of the moment, and was quite surprised when I was offered a place.

Thankfully, it's amazing what you can achieve in a couple of weeks! This summer has been a bit of a tough one, and while I kept trying to pull myself together and get stuff done, mostly I didn't do anything useful at all. Fortunately, after a restorative break in beautiful Paris, I suddenly launched into action at the end of August and managed to get most of the planning and preparation done in about a fortnight. I've always loved a deadline.

So, this is how my not-so-grand not-a-plan came together:

1. Quick! Design more cards. In an ideal world, I would have launched a brand new range of super stylish homeware and stationery to make buyers weep tears of joy. Instead I decided that all my wares would be new to Top Drawer, so I concentrated on filling a few gaps instead. I had a few new patterns ready that slotted into my existing wrapping paper collections and designed a some more cards, beginning with this gorilla (happily marrying my love of both great apes and Carole King's Tapestry album). Things were off to a good start.

2. Pick a colour. Any colour. I ignored millions of emails from the exhibition build company asking me what colour I'd like my stand painted (and would I like special flooring/shelves/plug sockets for the price of the energy bill of a small country/beautiful women to come and help me sell), then suddenly decided at the last minute that I probably should paint it, because most of my patterns have a white background and I wanted them to stand out. After seeking the advice of a friend, I plumped for panels of mustard yellow (panels because I would now have to paint it myself and didn't think I'd have time to do the whole thing).

2016-09-09 16.03.28.jpg

3. Whip up a catalogue. Thankfully, I'd already had lots of help from my friend Tina who designed my first wholesale catalogue earlier this year, so I used that as a template. It still took a lot longer than I thought to update, but, after staying up all night, I managed to get it to the printer with less than a week to go! I also had postcards printed and even concocted a press release which made everything sound a lot better planned than it was! (Although in retrospect I really didn't need the press releases, a few postcards in the press room would have been fine.)

4. Mock up my stand. I commandeered a section of the hall at home and all sorts of pieces of furniture until I had an idea of what I could fit in the space. After thoroughly combing Pinterest for ideas I stuck everything to the wall with masking tape and enlisted my family to help me with all the drilling and painting, doing as much in advance as possible to make it easy to install on the day. Mocking everything up at home was so worthwhile - I did stick to my plan, and it looked OK! The most difficult part was accepting that it wasn't possible to display every single product I have. Less is more, apparently.

Overall, I was quite pleased with how it turned out (although the mustard is difficult to photograph!). Set up day went surprisingly smoothly. My two pieces of advice would be to take someone to help you (I had my brilliant mum and sister) and a trolley to ferry everything up from the car (Olympia is ENORMOUS).

(My sister, @FelicitySlater, Instagrams like a pro; here I am, rolling mustard in my hi-vis.)

(My sister, @FelicitySlater, Instagrams like a pro; here I am, rolling mustard in my hi-vis.)

I wouldn't exactly recommend such a slap-dash approach, but I'm really glad I managed to get everything together somehow. There's so much I couldn't have learned any other way than by just being at Top Drawer. I even had one LOVELY customer on the first day who gave me lots of advice while I took her order. Here are a few tips that spring to mind:

1. Always invoice pro forma. Not just for the first order like I'd written in my catalogue T&Cs, because unless it's someone massive like John Lewis, you should always make sure you've been paid before you deliver.

2. Use a simple carbon copy order book to take orders, don't faff around with an iPad (which is what I was doing).

3. Sell everything in packs; 6 cards, 12 sheets of wrap etc. I knew this was what bigger companies would do, but as a first time exhibitor, I thought it would encourage buyers to take a chance on me if I was more flexible. I'm still not sure on this one, I've definitely had a couple of shops place orders for just 3 of one design, but I suppose there's also something to be said for acting like you're already a well established brand and perhaps inspiring more confidence that way?

The best thing about the whole experience was making friends with my Spotted neighbours. It was so good to meet other designers at a similar stage in their career and it wouldn't have been half as much fun without them. In fact, probably no fun at all.

Here are MAIRI HELENA, me, Zanna from PAPIO PRESS, KATIE KEITH, Anastassia of FOREVER FUNNY and Victoria from BOBBIE PRINT. Catherine from MOTTAINAI TEXTILES, Rachel from LITTLE WOLF and Ana from ABALON STAR were all busy with customers and missed out on the photo!

Before I went to Top Drawer, I read this Design Trust article which is full of useful advice! Patricia (everyone's favourite design business guru) says, "note that especially trade buyers will want to see you a couple of seasons or years before they actually will order from you, so don’t be too optimistic in that area", so I had very low expectations about receiving any orders at all! Happily, I have had a few as a result of exhibiting, all from lovely, independent shops. I did spot buyers from John Lewis and Harrods, but they didn't spend much time in the Spotted section! The show was actually a bit quieter than I expected; it was quite comforting when one of the big companies downstairs in the main gift area told me it had been the same for them. The downside of being in Spotted was that a lot of people didn't seem to make it upstairs to where we were; Olympia is so vast, it would be very easy to miss the whole section. On the other hand I hadn't done any networking beforehand; if I'd worked harder in advance to make contacts and build relationships with buyers, it probably have helped.

So, after three very long days and a renewed passion for caffeinated drinks, I packed up and trundled back to Staffordshire in the car. Special mention must go to wonderful Katie Keith, designer and Spotted-neighbour extraordinaire, who helped me wheel the entire contents of my stand a mile through Hammersmith on my little rusty trolley, all so I didn't have pack up, walk to fetch my car, queue to get back in etc... There's no way I could have managed it without her - thank you, Katie!


Towards the end of July, I was fortunate enough to be whisked away to Orkney at only a few days notice! I was invited along by Alex, a good friend of my sister's, who had a spare ticket up to visit her family and knew I could do with a break.

View of Hoy from Mainland Orkney.

It turned out to be exactly what I needed at exactly the right time. Fiona and Maggie made me feel so much at home and showed me around Orkney's beautiful Mainland. There is nothing quite like being absorbed into a lovely group of people you've never met before, who make you feel like being yourself is just right. And Orkney really is the most glorious place; I only explored parts of the West Mainland, so I can't wait to go back and see more!

Alex's mum, Fiona Sanderson, is a metal worker and artist, so I even had the chance to make my own miniature aluminium bowls! Honestly, not only a spectacularly beautiful landscape, the kindest hosts, Neolithic stone circles and archeological digs, Viking runes, rhubarb ice cream, the wonder that is the Pier Arts Centre, swimming in the sea, fish and chips, and a lesson in making flat breads, but also metal working!

Fiona's garden studio.

Fiona's garden studio.

And did I mention spotting seals and Scottish primroses? And the leg of lamb gifted to me by North Ronaldsay sheep farmers which I brought back on the sleeper train, wrapped carefully in newspaper by Maggie, who drove all the way to Kirkwall the morning I left to collect it, even though she's a vegan? And the black and ochre lichen and incredible cliffs of Yesnaby, where we ate scallop rolls overlooking the sea? And driving to the Ring of Brodgar at midnight because the moon was full, even though it had disappeared behind cloud by the time we arrived (which actually made for an even more memorable visit as we hunted for Viking graffiti by the light of our phones and got a bit lost trying to find the way in)?

So many wonderful things. I should have written about this straight away but I am, if anything, an unreliable blogger. If I had any regular readers, they would certainly attest to this fact (but of course I don't post often enough to have any of those). I've been reminded that I really must write this because I recently read the brilliant Outrun by Amy Liptrott. Born on Orkney, her memoir of alcoholism and recovery describes how she leaves the islands for the thrills of London, returning age 30 to find Orkney will hold her as she pieces herself back together. It is beautifully written and has already become the book I'm urging everyone I meet to read.

You can find out more about visiting here. We took the sleeper train to Inverness*, bus to Scrabster and then Ferry to Stromness.

*Heavily asterisked because due to an ill-timed strike we were turfed of the train at Edinburgh, in the middle of the night, and had to take a taxi to Inverness. However, it really wouldn't put me off going by sleeper again; the 3 hours sleep I did manage to enjoy were very comfortable!

PS. This has to be the best blue plaque you've ever seen, right?!

PPS. I've also just returned from Top Drawer, my first ever trade show. I'll write a separate post about that SOON, but amazingly my first order of the show was from a shop in Orkney - the beautiful Longship. What are the chances of that?!

My Inner Gazelle and the Bournemouth Marathon

I'm starting off my thirties in a spectacularly non-Kate Slater fashion by running a marathon.

(I will pause while anyone who was in my PE class at school scrapes themselves off the floor.)

For everyone else, I cannot impress upon you enough how unlikely this is. When I was 10, I won the sack race and when I was 15 my PE teacher asked me to demonstrate backstroke to the rest of the class. Those are my only sporting achievements so far. (I might also be able to save you from drowning if I'm wearing my pyjamas but, let's face it, that's not a real life situation.)

When my brain isn't awash with the serotonin that swooshes round as I run, the main thing that keeps me marathon-motivated (apart from eyeing up fluorescent orange running gear online) is that I plan on raising some money for Teenage Cancer Trust while I'm at it, in memory of my lovely friend Ben.

I'm by no means the first of Ben's friends and family to run a ridiculously long way to raise money for Teenage Cancer Trust, but I promise you I'm the most unlikely runner of us all, so any donation, however tiny, will definitely spur me on! You can find my Just Giving page here. We all miss Ben so much; this is just another small way to remember someone really wonderful and hopefully make things a little bit better for the next young person diagnosed with cancer.

(As you can see, the other thing I've learned to do on the cusp of this new decade is make a gif!)

(As you can see, the other thing I've learned to do on the cusp of this new decade is make a gif!)

I started running (aka, jogging, very slowly, on strictly flat surfaces) just over a year ago, after reading Haruki Murakami's What I Talk About When I Talk About Running. Yep, not only has Murakami written 13 novels, been translated into 50 languages and won masses of awards, he's also run at least 25 marathons AND one ultramarathon (and seems to squeeze in quite a few triathalons too).

I borrowed the memoir from my friend Sarah and, thoroughly inspired, we decided to find out what all the fuss was about and go for a jog (under the strict agreement that we wouldn't try to chat at the same time).

We had a glass of wine before we set off, a slice of cake when we got back and managed at least half a mile! I wouldn't say I caught the running bug exactly, but it was a nice way to spend time together and I even bought myself an actual pair of leggings from TK Maxx. I hadn't worn leggings since about 1993. (FYI: I've since discovered that running leggings are called tights, which is just one example of the befuddling, yet rather alluring, world of sportswear; a world where the most reliable way to identify if something is for women is that it's got pink bits on, and where you find yourself trapped in a changing cubicle, ensnared in a sports bra you don't understand, wondering how likely it is you'll need to dislocate a least one shoulder to get out of it.)

By autumn we'd reached the dizzying heights of 2 whole miles, with conversation and the odd hill thrown in for good measure (and a shared slice of millionaire's shortbread at the end). It was quite brilliant. I had a vague idea it might be nice to be able to manage 6 miles, but that was probably enough and something I might accomplish in the distant future, around the same time I finally knit enough squares to make a whole blanket or learn to make gravy.

Then Sarah suggested we sign up for the Bournemouth marathon... and I said yes.

I was slightly alarmed, but it was almost Christmas, other parts of my life were going awry and I thought running a marathon seemed like the sort of thing the Kate Slater I would like to be would do without a second thought.

And it is quite handy, really, because when the question "what on earth am I doing with my life?" pops into my brain in an inconvenient sort of way, I have a ready answer: "I know! I'm running a marathon" which appeases my inner Spanish Inquisitor a little bit.

I am a gazelle. A gazelle in running tights. But really I fear I am more like one of the cows when they're let out in spring. Full of joy, rather ungainly, and you know it won't last.

Either way, I'd be eternally grateful if you could sponsor me, here.

Making The Birthday Crown

As today's the Queen's official birthday I thought I'd share a few more progress photos from when I was in the midst of illustrating The Birthday Crown! You can find my original blog about illustrating the book here and see more illustrations in my portfolio, here.

And here's a very short (and very bad video) I made of the set a while ago...

Confessions of a

I'd almost stopped drawing. I mean, I still took my sketchpad out to work on roughs or to plan patterns, but I didn't really draw if it wasn't the beginning of a collage. And the less I drew, the less confidence I had and the worse I felt about it, like I was only pretending to be an illustrator and, sooner or later, someone would find out. Everyone would say, "Well, she might be able to collage a fine gazelle, but did you know all her sketchbooks are actually full of lists?"

Last week I heard Eddie Mair interview artist Claire Parrish, about how she'd begun drawing again after years (it's a great story, you can listen here on PM, about 40 minutes in) and something made me stop worrying about all the other things I should be doing instead and pick up my pencil.

After that tiny beginning (and proving that Gladys is always the answer) I didn't really want to stop. I can't describe just how perfect a weekend I've had, sitting in the sunshine, in the garden or at the top of my studio steps, drawing trees and things. Not brilliantly well, it has to be said, but that is beside the point.


I think this must be what people are talking about when they enthuse about the benefits of mindfulness; feeling there is nowhere else in the world, and no-one else in the world, you'd rather be. It's quite a revelation, as though my mind is gently rewiring itself and I'm settling back into my skin.


If I needed another reason to fall back in love with the humble coloured pencil, it would be that they're so portable! Even if I attempt to take all my collage things outside, it takes only the lightest breeze, or a mere wag of Gladys's tail, to send everything floating off into the grass. This whole pencil and paper thing is revolutionary. And Gladys can sit as close as she likes.


You can see more work in progress photos over on Instagram. And just in case this post is lacking collage, here are the aforementioned gazelles:

Going for Geese

This is my new philosophy for life.

I had grand plans to design myself a really nice thirtieth birthday party invitation which I could adapt and sell online (I know, I have quite a startling aptitude for business). I thought I'd create something which said, Kate is a person of style and elegance, her collage simply oozes sophistication, but I couldn't get it right. I spent a huge chunk of the day trying to make various flowery things work, and still, the sophistication wasn't oozing at all. I had the same disheartened feeling I get when I read trend forecasts all about pineapples or concrete, or whatever.

In desperation, I turned to Peter Scott's Observations of Wildlife, because a good bird book has never let me down, and I found this:

Swans! I drew them, decided the looked more like geese and, hey presto...

So this is it. I'm going for geese.

I think it's kind of how I always work; I had no idea people would buy tea towels with orangutans on, but it turns out there is a niche market out there for jungle themed kitchen textiles. Whoever would have guessed? I'm not entirely sure if this is the best way to run a business, but I expect I will find out.

And there are always concrete pineapples to fall back on, if all else fails.


Singing for Illustrators

In the same way you're supposed to do pilates or something to stop yourself becoming a hunchback with a slipped disc, I think every illustrator should join a choir! (I mean, ideally every human being would, there'd probably be fewer wars and more shared cakes.) Singing in Lichfield Gospel Choir is basically the exact opposite of what I do on an average day in the studio; instead of sitting at my desk, alone, covered in little bits of paper and glue, serenading my dog, I stand in a school hall and sing for two whole hours with about seventy other lovely people, led by our brilliant musical director, Themba Mvula. It's enough to make a freelance illustrator positively giddy.

I've been a member for just over two years, have finally learned all the words (quite a lot in Zulu), and can now both clap and sing at the same time without a look of extreme concentration (I think). There is nothing better than choir practice on a Tuesday evening to make the world feel like an exceptionally glorious place.


I'm so proud to be part of this fantastic group. If you'd like to come and see us perform we're singing at Lichfield Garrick Theatre this Sunday, 24th April, and taking part in Community Spirit at Birmingham Symphony Hall on 22nd May, which is rather exciting.

The Birthday Crown

Towards the end of last year, I was contacted by the Royal Collection about illustrating a book to celebrate the Queen's 90th birthday. So I popped into St James's Palace one Friday morning in my best hat, got there far too early and then walked around outside for far too long, til I was almost late, flung my sketchbooks all over the security office floor, and somehow still managed to get the job! Cue: a lot of celebratory dancing. The story is written by Davide Cali, who has won 33 awards and is, you know, a proper children's book author, so after even more celebratory dancing I sat down to wonder quite how on earth I'd got this job and practice drawing corgis.

I LOVED working on this project. The story is all about finding the Queen the perfect crown for her birthday celebrations and involves a lot of snazzy headgear, but ends simply with a perfect paper crown from made by the prince and princess. Really unusually, the story is almost entirely set in one room of the palace, and I think the book's brilliant designer, Duska Karanov, and I simultaneously had the idea that I could make a proper set!

Here are a few photos of the whole thing:

Working on this made me think a lot about my own Grandma and Gran. They would have been beside themselves with delight if they'd known I was illustrating something for the Queen's birthday. The pose the Queen's adopting on the front cover is very much how my Grandma would look if she was opening a present - or just peering over your shoulder, waiting to make sure she'd boiled you the perfect egg.

You can buy a copy here and it's also available in all good bookshops.

The rest of February and all of March

Another blog (following January and a bit of February) about my latest favourite listen, book, play and walk.


Bookclub: Judith Kerr - When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit


Judith Kerr was, unsurprisingly, completely delightful on Radio 4's Bookclub. When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit is based on her own family's flight from Nazi Germany and the time they spent travelling around Europe as refugees. In response to James Naughtie's observation that she's still writing (and drawing - her favourite) in her nineties, Kerr replies, "Oh I don't know, everybody does everything in their nineties now, I think". At this point in the programme I decided for absolute certain, that I want to be Judith Kerr. Perhaps in 60-odd years I'll have cracked it...

You can read James Naughtie's blog about this particular Bookclub here if you aren't able to listen and he's also picked out his favourites from over 200 editions. There are some real gems amongst them, from Donna Tartt to Maya Angelou.


Love, Nina by Nina Stibbe

OK, this is a bit of a cheat because I think I read it in January, but it's brilliant and I don't know why I didn't include it last time. It's a collection of letters the author wrote to her sister while working as a nanny to LRB editor Mary Kay Wilmers' sons in Camden in the 1980s, surrounded by all sorts of famous literary folk, most notably Alan Bennett, who mends bicycles and regularly joins the family for dinner, often bearing a salad or rice pudding. The dialogue is wonderful and the recipes she includes are extraordinarily eighties, involving tinned fruit and a lot of turkey mince. I hardly ever even email my sister, let alone write her incredibly witty letters. I'm on the verge of buying myself a fountain pen in the hope it will spur me on to greater things. Like almost all the best books, this one was recommended to me by Sarah of The Book Barge. I urge you to read it, you will laugh a lot.


All My Sons by Arthur Miller - Birmingham Rep

I loved Michael Buffong's production with the Black-led Talawa theatre company. I studied Death of a Salesman for A level, and the experience didn't exactly instill me with a life long love of Arthur Miller, but this production of All My Sons was wonderful. The play is beautifully staged amongst tall, leafy trees on the front porch of a clapboard house (I'm a sucker for a nice set) and begins with Kate (Doña Croll) grieving over the death of her pilot son in the war, while romance blossoms between his fiance, Ann (Kemi-Bo Jacobs), and younger brother Chris (Leemore Marrett Jr). The plot takes a much darker turn as the father, Joe (Ray Shell), a small factory owner, is forced to face up to his responsibility for the deaths of 14 airmen who flew the faulty aeroplanes he sold in an attempt to protect his business. The end scene is incredibly intense, as the family is shattered and Joe has to confront his own selfish greed, realising that the lost pilots are "all my sons".


Hartington to Beresfordale (and back again)

2015-03-15 15.26.01.jpg

This is one of my very favourite Peak District ambles. It's not very far and invariably involves shopping for cheese or a nice lunch. Last month it was the latter; we walked here for our annual Mother's Day jaunt.  Usually we'd take a picnic to eat by the river but the forecast was so dreadful we opted for the Charles Cotton Hotel in Hartington instead (delicious), with Gladys (labrador, not to be repeated, she only calmed down when I sneaked my lamb bone to her under the table). We used to go camping in Beresfordale with lots of friends and our mums when I was little and this walk was a regular feature. I once complained of a headache when we'd hardly set off and was driven to Hartington by car instead (wimp). When we arrived mum bought me a Magnum which caused ructions because the others had only been allowed lemon ice lollies. I grandly promised that when my first book was published I'd buy everyone a Magnum to make up for it - campers, I owe you.

Giveaway: Win a New Concertina Copy of ABC London

Competition now closed. Thank you very much to everyone who entered! And the winner is...

No. 5: GEMMA LUKER! Hooray! Please get in touch, Gemma, and email me your address.

I've extended the closing time for this competition by a day because some people have been having problems commenting. I think I've sorted it out now so please try again if you couldn't comment before!

Competition time! (It's been TOO long.) I was thrilled to receive advance copies of ABC London back in January (originally published by Frances Lincoln in 2012, written by James Dunn and illustrated by me). The super folk at Frances Lincoln have reissued it in a new concertina format, a compact 13 x 13cm in size, all packaged in a rather lovely box! A shame then, that I completely missed it's publication earlier this month, only remembering when my sister snapped a photo of it in Foyles!

I'm so pleased with how this book has turned out (possibly because, as one of my tutors at uni observed, everything looks better when you shrink it down - and I do much prefer the simpler type), that I've decided to give a signed copy away! All you need to do is leave a comment below.

Find out what makes London one of the world’s most exciting cities in this unusual alphabet that can be unfolded to nearly a metre in length. A is for Art, B is for Brick Lane, C is for Changing of the Guard… this delightful alphabet of words and pictures looks at some of the things that give London its unique and stylish cultural identity.
— Frances Lincoln Children's Books

Please share and tweet and like and so on, it's all hugely appreciated, although do make sure you leave a comment to enter. This competition is open to anyone, anywhere in the world and will close at midday (BST) on Monday 30th April The winner will be chosen at random on Sunday afternoon.

Good luck!

PS. I've still got spaces on my collage workshops on Saturday the 11th and 18th April. Lots more info here if you fancy a relaxing day in a lovely Staffordshire farmhouse learning a bit about my collage techniques accompanied with a slice of cake or two and lunch included!

Ruling the Roost - the Nation's Favourite Bird

Calling (warbling, tweeting and chirping) all Brits: the vote is open to choose our national bird! You can pick your favourite here, from a shortlist of 10. It's been narrowed down to either robin, blue-tit, blackbird, kingfisher, wren, hen harrier, red kite, mute swan, barn owl or puffin. I expect it will turn out to be a robin but I've heard a few people campaigning very persuasively for the blackbird (for it's song and because it's so easy to find) and, of course, I have a huge soft spot for puffins! In fact out of the shortlist there are only 2 I haven't illustrated. If by some chance the hen harrier or red kite is chosen, I'll definitely be adding it to my portfolio!

British Birds.jpg

You can find all of the above items in my shop, Etsy or Not on the High Street.

January (and a little bit of February).

I spend most of my working day with Radio 4 playing in the background. I don't always listen properly, but there are very few things which will actually make me get up and turn it off (ahem-round-Britain-quiz-cough) and there are occasionally programmes so good they root me to the spot, unmoving until they finish). I thought I might write each month about my favourite listen and then decided to add in other recommendations too, so it's become a sort of monthly round-up. Having left it til mid-February, this is a bit of a cheat too. I'll get better.


With Great Pleasure: Sanjeev Bhaskar

I love this series, a sort of Desert Island Discs for the book lover, and this programme with Sanjeev Bhaskar of Goodness Gracious Me and The Kumars at no. 42 fame (42 because he's a big Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy fan, I discovered while listening!) is one of the best. You should listen just to hear Adrian Lester read the line "and we're going to need your creativity or we're done for", it will send shivers down your spine. Claire Benedict also does a fantastic reading of Kipling's 'If' which I'd never imagined being spoken by a woman and is much the better for it. If you're in the UK, you'll be able to catch it on iPlayer for the next 3 days.


Love's Labours Won (Much Ado About Nothing) / Love's Labours Lost

Despite being a Midlander, I'd never been to the RSC in Stratford until a couple of weeks ago when we went to see Love's Labours Won. We loved it so much we couldn't resist going back again last Friday to see Love's Labours Lost. Much Ado is my very favourite (happy) Shakespeare and this production was completely wonderful. The best Beatrice and Benedick ever I've seen and, most surprisingly, a Dogberry who will not only make you cry with laughter but also break your heart. Both plays still have a few more performances left to run and you can catch Love's Labours Won at the live cinema broadcast on the 4th of March.


Ilam Park (The photo above is from the same walk, but in October because I didn't actually take any last week.)

This was our Valentine's day out, complete with fish and chips from Ashbourne's Market Place which have got to be the best to be found this far from the sea! Just up the road from Dovedale, Ilam looks like a gingerbread village with it's ornate, steeply roofed cottages. The hall is a National Trust hostel, complete with a tea room and a garden that offers a spectacular view of Thorpe Cloud. With your delectable jam-slathered scone in hand, you can watch the tiny people rowed up along the top ridge like the spines of a dragon. Heaven. We discovered it's just as good with a parcel of fish and chips on your knee, which handily doubled up as a hot water bottle on this particular grey February day. We opted for a gentle amble upstream along the river, where the path eventually meets a lane that leads back down into the village.

Collage Workshops on the Farm

I'm really excited to announce that from July I'll be hosting regular collage workshops here on the farm in Newborough, Staffordshire, where my studio is based.

Whether you’re a keen crafter or a complete novice, you can spend a few peaceful hours in a beautiful countryside setting and indulge your inner artist! Workshops take place in the farmhouse but you're very welcome to have a behind-the-scenes peek at my studio too.

For more information, to book and to see lots more photos from my first workshop click here.

The beautiful photography is by Holly Booth, who, as always, did a brilliant job of capturing the day!

Cows and Flowers

Growing up on a dairy farm and now working from a studio overlooking the yard, you might imagine drawing cows would be my forte. Unfortunately, my early attempts at capturing our dairying queens on paper usually failed spectacularly and it sort of put me off. Aged 10 I drew a ghoulish calf's head in oil pastels and gave it to my mum for her birthday, I think it was downhill from there! In my first year at uni we had a Christmas drawing project and I chose the farm as my theme. In theory, I'd be able to snuggle up on a straw bale with a mug of mulled wine and fill a sketchbook with my favourite Friesians, but actually it was bitterly cold and I stuck it out only long enough to fill a couple of pages (badly). Lately, I've been trying to remedy this and if you follow me on Instagram you'll have seen the fruits of my labour. Until recently I was ignorant of the benefits of posting half-collaged Herefords, but now I've decided that #wip is the way forward. Instagram, I love you! So, in the spirit of sharing my working process, from my first pencil drawings to the finished pattern, here's the merry herd:

Cow drawings © Kate Slater

Cow heads coloured Cows © Kate Slater Cows pattern © Kate Slater

OK, so I've only done their heads, but I'm happy with how they've turned out for now. I left the Highland out in the end because it wasn't quite right - disproving my theory that the hairier the animal, the easier it is to collage! Most importantly, my dad successfully identified all six different breeds, which has got to be a good thing.

These cows are now destined for mugs and tea towels, and I've just had some new wrapping paper printed too!

New wrapping paper

PS. Here's a cow from a year ago with a body. Just so you know I'm not always that lazy. Strange to see how my style is developing too, even in such a short time.

Cow and Calf © Kate Slater


The Little Red Hen

My third children's book, The Little Red Hen, was published on Tuesday by the wonderful Barefoot Books! The Little Red Hen © Kate Slater

I'm so thrilled with how this book turned out, I love the hardback matte cover and the lovely paperback with flaps. There's a story CD narrated by Debra Messing and the traditional tale is beautifully retold by Mary Finch.

Here's a sneak peek of what is probably my favourite illustration, where, as a reviewer in Publisher's Weekly noted, "the rooster briefly wears a cooking pot on his head."

Red Hen 16-17 © Kate Slater

You can buy here from Barefoot, here from your local indie or come along to The Book Barge at Barton Marina, Staffordshire on Saturday 12th October and have your book signed by yours truly!


Blue Peter visits the Farnes Flock!

Finally, at the grand age of seven-and-twenty, I am the very proud owner of a Blue Peter badge! A couple of weeks ago, on my birthday in fact, I was heading into the Peak District for a celebratory luncheon, enjoying the sunshine and generally revelling in the fact that I had not one single bird to cut out, when my telephone rang. It was Blue Peter's director asking if I could go up to the Farne Islands that very evening to be part of a feature they had planned the following day! What would Diane Louise Jordan* do? I asked myself, and quickly said YES before I had chance to get too nervous. So, after a quick sandwich, we hot-footed it back home for a slice of birthday battenburg (homemade with lots of marzipan - my favourite!) before I caught the train back up to the Farnes, just three days after I returned home from hanging the exhibition.

It's very exciting having your travel arranged for you by someone else. I spent a good chunk of the journey quickly trying to get to the part of Susan Cain's Quiet where she enlightens introverts on how to deal with public speaking. It turns out you need 1) practice: "Aaargh, I have no time to practice!" and 2) a passion for your subject: "BIRDS! COLLAGE! BLUE PETER! YES!" Everything would be ok, I promised myself, my jar of Night Time Kalms rattling reassuringly in my pocket.

In fact, everything was super. It should come as no surprise that people who work on Blue Peter are very lovely people indeed. They even gave me a special HAT. Anyone who knows just how much I love a good hat will not be surprised by my delight in having such a fine, green M&S specimen to add to my collection.

The children from the local middle school in Seahouses were brilliant. They asked some great questions about my exhibition and made lovely bird collages in a really short space of time. We also did quite a lot of walking in and out of the chapel, donning our hats at the appropriate moment, and a good deal of pointing at puffins:

Blue Peter

Blue Peter

It was broadcast today and you can now see the whole programme here if you're in the UK, it will probably be available for a week or so and the Farnes bit is about 19 minutes in.

I'll be back on the Farnes during the summer holidays to run some children's collage workshops (as seen on Blue Peter!), I'll keep you posted and should have some definite dates lined up soon.

Diane Louise Jordan

Diane Louise Jordan

*My absolute favourite Blue Peter presenter when I was young: