Meryl Smith Lawton

Green Threads | Kate Zmurchyk, founder of Earth’s Revolution clothing.

In the interest of full disclosure, I don’t really like craft fairs. I always feel caught somewhere between being too old for the multiplicity of brightly coloured onesies announcing the wearer’s predilection for mammaries, and too young for the hats that suggest the onset of alopecia. I tend to walk around overly fast in fear of being hodgepodged to something, and I feel an overwhelming sense of guilt accompanied by sad grandma eyes that has resulted in my buying far more knit toilet paper covers than anyone should have in one lifetime. So it was with some reservation that I attended Saturday’s Spring Stop and Shop at the Aviation Hanger on Kingsway.

My tactic was simple: Just like at the grocery store, I would remain around the edges. Surely that’s where I’d find the best things, and hopefully avoid any temptationg to purchase any headgear designed to cover my balding pate. Around the edges is where I found Earth’s Revolution, a clothing shop owned, run, and designed by Kate Zmurchyk. A sessional and online instructor at NAIT, Zmurchyk began Earth’s Revolution about two years ago, after realizing her love of trees could be artistically expressed and shared with others via sustainable and environmentally kind clothing.

Somewhat reassured, I moved a little bit farther into the centre and spoke with Sarah Bourque of Belua Designs, who creates one-of-a-kind monsters out of new socks or recycled wool sweaters. A recent transplant to Edmonton, Bourque has made Belua Designs her full-time job, and credits events like Stop and Shop for helping. “Because each of my monsters is unique, it’s not something I can wholesale,” she says. “My customers need to see them and pick one out, and they can do that at events like Stop and Shop. It means I get to connect with my customers too!”

By now I’d slowed my pace, perused a few racks of incredible clothing by Mystery Girl, Fridget, and Rebecca King, and was almost convinced that this really wasn’t your grandma’s craft fair. I’d delved into the centre of the fair and left without any trace of doilies, velveteen headpieces, or toiletpaper covers in my purse. I did, however, have a renewed faith in craft fairs, as well as the Edmontonians who make them part of their life, careers, and aspirations.

Now, if I can only figure out how to deal with the sullen, pleading eyes of the Girl Guide cookie vendors, I’ll be set.