In every job lot of second hand dolls I source, there are treasures and trash.
At first sight, Daniella fell into the latter category. Her head was far too large for her body and limbs, her legs and minuscule feet were loose and badly made, her oversized clothes crudely glued on, her hair matted and messy and the face looked sullen. What sort of transformation could I exact on her?
We stared balefully at one another for a considerable time and eventually I knew.
I have a friend who does psychic card readings in a little booth. She wears glittering shawls, scarves and jewels in reds and purples with plenty of black eye makeup. She was my inspiration.
Next I remembered those booths you used to get on seaside piers or in dark corners of amusement parks with a life-sized mannequin head and upper body. You put your money in the slot, the mannequin jiggled about a bit and stared into a crystal ball, lights shone eerily and a card displaying your fortune emerged from a space below. That was what Daniella would be!
Off came the clothes and hair. A delicate paint job transformed the face from sulky to inscrutable and exotic. A sleek black wig, silver, purple and scarlet shawls and large hooped earrings were added. The legs and lower torso were glued into a cardboard tube and I set about making her booth.
A domed lantern at the top, concealed at the front with the Fortune Teller sign, holds a Halloween finger light, painted purple to illuminate the booth. Daniella sits in a curtained section with a crystal ball made from a bead, a window and a slot for one penny to be inserted.
The rest of the box is decorated with diminutive tarot cards and other esoteric images, along with an aperture for the fortune card to be released.
There is even a lever at the back which can be moved, allowing the mannequin to shift about slightly as she considers your future.
My little fortune teller will accompany me to various steampunk conventions and sales throughout the spring and summer, until she’s snapped up and taken to read fortunes for some lucky customer.
She’s already packed and ready to attend the Shrewsbury Steampunk Spectacular on March 24th and 25th in St Marys Church.
Here in 21st Century England, it is possible, for a modest outlay, to purchase sets of what are called ‘storage suitcases’ from a well-known chain of stationery shops. These sturdy little card cases, with metal handles and hinges, come in three sizes ranging from 12 x 8 x 3.5 inches (30 x 20 x 9 cm) down to 8 x 6 x 3 inches (14 x 20 x 8 cm).
It is the room in which Henry the tinker (
The Case of the Balloon Journey
Land can just be glimpsed through the clouds below, while Harvey stands in his basket, which has a turning anemometer and a burner with working flame (powered by a battery tea light). Harvey wears a genuine leather coat and flying helmet and has all the details and gadget you’ve come to expect from steampunk-Shrunk figures. This case costs £68 (or £48 without figure).
The Case of the Withdrawing Room
This small case shows 
The Case of the Tinker’s Time Machine
Yet another time traveller! Here you find George Entwhistle hard at work on a partially completed temporal transporter. You can find the full story 
The Case of the Tea Duel
Continuing with my series on what’s available at Steampunk-Shrunk, this week I’d like to highlight the Cabinets of Curiosities.
Of all the things made here, I think the gadgets and gizmos are my favourites. I love scouring charity shops, discount stores, eBay and so forth for tiny weird bits and pieces I can upcycle, combine and transform in wild and wonderful ways. Inevitably, I was ending up with a mass of very fragile tiny steampunk gadgets, whose purpose I could only guess at. A few found their way into the room boxes or the hands of my characters, but Charles Tradescant here decided to collect the rest together into wooden cabinets.
Certainly the poseable porcelain figures, with all their clothes hand stitched and their tiny accessories and (often) new wigs all hand made, come out relatively expensive. Likewise the room cases, which can take me weeks to create. These items are not really suitable for children either, being fragile, with some sharp edges and a plethora of what health & safety people refer to as Small Parts.
For those who have less time and patience, there’s a range of ready made books, from tiny blank-paged notebooks and pencils to thicker, fully illustrated printed volumes. The text of each book appears in this blog, in case the print is too difficult to read.
Happy reading, and should purchasers still wish to try reading the original volumes, we do have a few Illuminating Manuscript Readers, with magnifying lens and bright lamp for £14. (It’s pictured here on a centimetre square grid, to give an idea of scale.)
Greetings to all from the grey, damp and murky land of Avalon, where life, myth and mystery combine curiously amongst the swirling mists (well, actually thundering hail storms at the moment, but that’s a temporary glitch, I’m sure).
Messrs Crackington and Balsover are busily creating an emporium filled with a host of cunning contrivances and devious devices, which will be available for purchase at our forthcoming sales.
Over the next few weeks, we will be highlighting more of the delights you can expect to discover on the Steampunk-Shrunk stalls which will be appearing around the land.
I, Ebenezer Crackington, am by trade a clockmaker. I have worked at this trade since I completed my apprenticeship in the beautiful city of Paris, France, many years ago, at the age of twenty-two.
I commenced by using a double bell for the alarm mechanism, with a strong beater which alternated between the two. I then constructed a large claxon, which I fashioned from a trombone horn, which moved about in a haphazard and suitably alarming fashion when activated.
Since I was concerned that the 
“Ornithological taxi-chrono-polymy.”
Henry paused for a moment, looking pensive. Then a large smile crossed his face.
If you are planning to visit any of our forthcoming Steampunk-Shrunk sales (see home page for details) in the next few months, you will be able to see and perhaps buy one of Charles’ ingenious little birds, such as the Crested Red-backed Cogfinch shown here.
George Entwhistle, a patents clerk by day, had always enjoyed tinkering. The trouble was, tinkering could be a somewhat noisy activity. Living as he did in a terraced property, he had to contend with frequent complaints from neighbours and visits from members of the constabulary.
Imagine George’s surprise and delight as he discovered a further door at the base, which opened quite easily, revealing a large cellar!
From that day onward, George worked to transform the cellar into a tinker’s workshop. He extended the heating pipes downwards to power a boiler, which not only heated the workshop, but allowed him to brew a much-needed cup of tea from time to time. He constructed a doorbell with a wire connecting it to the front of his house, so that callers could be heard. He made himself a shelf and workbench and even installed a clock and mirror. The result was a commodious and most agreeable work space. George was a happy man.
As you can see, his contraption is well underway, and he’s able to fire it up for short periods.
“Good lord!” Barnaby Balsover exclaimed, “There’s a chap there having his shoes polished by a clockwork automaton! Quite remarkable!”
I’d more or less given up, when I opened a draw and found some of these little creatures, bought in last year’s January sales, peering hopefully up at me.
Idly I began twisting wire around needles to form coils and threading them with whatever came to hand – vintage beads from an old necklace, cog wheels and watch parts, bells, charms and even miniature teapots. 
The copper coils were bent and twisted at crazy angles and the weird, dangling objects that emerged were hung from lengths of ribbon.
Steampunk - Shrunk! 