The Engine Room: Where everything is designed and made

(4 minute read)

For me, my sewing studio is more than just a place to work; it's a reflection of who I am, where I'm at, and the energy that goes into the making of the Jed Phoenix of London designs. On the journey of creating Strikingly Unconventional Style for almost three decades, the environment has changed along the way. Here’s how...

When it comes to my creative space, there's the Before Covid Studio (BCS), and the After Covid Studio (ACS). The BCS was where I started JPoL and slowly but surely figured out what it takes to run the lifestyle business that has kept me going for over 27 years. It was where I broke the stitch regulation bar on my Nan's old Singer and where I tentatively started using the first of my Wimsew industrial flatbed sewing machines. It was where my step-dad built the 6ft x 5ft cutting table with storage underneath, leaving just enough space to squeeze around all four sides. It was where Elaine worked with me for 17 years, and where we welcomed fashion students for work experience. At one stage, I had an island of three industrial machines—including the one I inherited from the corsetiere, Velda Lauder—as well as a domestic overlocker, an ironing station, and a spot by the big, west-facing window for hand-sewing buttons. There were a multitude of patterns drafted onto B&Q's finest lining paper in true DIY style, hanging on a piece of gridwall that eventually fell off the wall under the sheer weight of it all. The Before Covid Studio was a hive of activity and the closest to mass production I ever got, with a maximum of five of us working at any one time. It suited my pre-2020 business perfectly.

In 2021, I was forced to move from the studio I'd called home for 22 years. The After Covid Studio reflects JPoL as it is now: intentional. Moving meant going through absolutely every drawer, box, and shelf, deciding exactly what I wanted the future of the business to look like. It was a deeply cathartic process. I'd already sold my non-ULEZ compliant car, started building a bicycle trailer, and Elaine had moved over 80 miles away. Real shifts were happening. Discovering I am autistic just before Covid made me acutely aware of my sensory sensitivities and my executive function challenges. With the help of my brilliant mentor, Jess, I could use the upheaval of moving as an opportunity to design a space that worked for my brain and my business. Jess kept me on track when it came to organising all the admin aspects of moving. She was there to hold me together, albeit via Zoom calls, when the uncertainty and enormoty of moving got too much. And she validated my fiercely independent and seemingly quirky DIY way of doing things as just a differently wired brain.

The studio is now not only the Engine Room of JPoL, but my Happy Place and my stim - a perfect space for me to work alone with my headphones on. With thick rubber floor tiles underfoot, I can stand at the modified version of the original cutting table - now half the size - and work on the majority of my collection. It's only when I need to cut chiffon tops that I use the heavy duty castors on the legs of the cutting table, pull it into the middle of the room and open up the now hinged other half of the table top. Along the opposite wall to the cutting table are my three work horses - the replacement Wimsew industrial flatbed machine (which took over after the original retired from overwork), an industrial walking foot machine that chugs its way through leather with such satisfying ease, and the bicycle trailer that both carries and displays so much of the JPoL stock at London Alternative Market. In diagonally opposite corners of the room, there are gridwall panels, very securely attached to the wall, where I store components, recycled packaging materials, and a much more streamlined collection of self-drafted patterns. There is one very comfortable high backed chair on wheels that moves between the two sewing machines, depending on what fabric I'm working with. Between the Wimsew and the full length west-facing window is a black storage trunk that I've had since I was a nipper and that is ideal for housing all the off-cuts of leather until I get the chance to make more patchwork. In front of the window are two peace lilies that soak up the light and gently wave at the tree on the other side of the glass. 

While I miss the big view from my old studio window, the After Covid Studio provides a more focused space for me to create. It feels like there's a different kind of energy going into the pieces that I create now - one of calm and quiet knowing that this is how things should be.