Meet Tutankhamonkey and Monktenkahmum. These two zombie monkeys lurched their way into the house around about Halloween and decided to stay.
Tutankhamonkey is a birthday present for Mr Tabubil (technically, it’s last year’s birthday present. Don’t judge.)
Monktenkahamum is a farewell present for a friend who adores Halloween with an almost unholy passion. She left Chile well before he was finished, but he will get to her by New Year, even if he’s got to lurch the whole way. I used the Monkenottukhamun pattern by q.D.PatOOties. You can find the pattern on her page if you would like to make one of your own.!
Making up the zombie monkeys was pretty simple. But the bandages -t hose were different. Grubbying up the fabric turned into a headache of a sort I’d never suspected.
I didn’t have any paints on hand, which really didn’t matter because I wanted an organic sort of stain. It seemed like a good idea at the time but basically, I was a twit.
I tried coffee. I tried tea. I tried soy sauce. I tried fish sauce and oyster sauce –
Everything washed out clean.
I let the stains dry – for days. They washed out.
I set them with salt. They washed out.
I set them with vinegar. They washed out.
I can’t get a damned sauce stain out of a single shirt ever, but could I get one to stay when I actually wanted it to?
I could not
In desperation, I wet the cloth and dragged it across our balcony railings to sop up the greasy Santiago dust, because Santiago dust STICKS. Right now, as i type this, I am looking at a couple of pillowslips that were left to dry on the backs of balcony chairs that hadn’t been dusted in four days, and those pillowslips are now streaked and grubby forever. But the zombie bandages? I dragged and i swirled and i SWILLED those bandages in the greasy Santiago dust, and this time – THIS time – the Dust. Washed. Out.
So I wet the cloth again and used it to swab the grotty bits around the bottom of our outdoor balcony flowerpots.
That washed out too.
After two weeks of moaning, hair-shredding and an increasingly befuddled Mr Tabubil (“Yes Mr Tabubil, I’m swearing in harmony with myself. No, you don’t need to know why.”) I achieved a fabric that was mildly dingy. At that point, I gave up.
Marking the grimiest spots with chalk, I cut the most careful casually-raveled bandages you’ve ever seen. And draped.
The draping was rather a lot of fun, actually.
The monkeys rewarded me with a matching set of musty grins (seriously, the damp of antique drains was nothing to it) and Mr Tabubil thinks the zombie halloween monkeys are awesome.
