Irina Patterson: Handmade Happiness is My Way of Life

Could you start with your background?

I grew up in a city called Izhevsk, located 700 miles east of Moscow, in the 70's. I am a med school grad, and worked as an emergency physician in Russia. I have always been a crafter, always with a pair of sharp scissors.

What do you do now?

I've lived in Miami since 1992. For the last twenty years, I have been a professional artist and performer, and I create one of a kind hats for myself.

As soon as I put on one of my hats and step out on the street, I am no longer myself. I can break into a song and a dance just because I feel happy. I laugh and make other people laugh.

When did you use scissors for the first time?

In Russia. In my kindergarten. There, my favorite class was paper arts. Picture about 20 of five year-olds sitting around a long wooden table, on hard wooden chairs. In silence, we cut flowers and hearts out of colored paper. We made greeting cards.

My parents cherished those crude keepsakes. They always thought that my sister Natasha, who was two years older, and I were super talented. That’s why we both grew up super confident and thought we could be successful at anything.

What came next?

In Russia of that time, everything was limited. Yet, paper, fabric, and scissors were inexpensive and available. Every colorful scrap became a stimulus for imagination.

I felt then, and I still feel that way now, that life in general is not colorful enough. There are galleries and museums but I can’t always be in them. There are magnificent theaters and a circus, somewhere. But on the streets, there is too much sameness and grayness.

I always wanted to fix that, even if only with my own outfit.

How did you transition from paper cards to fashion?

Before sewing for myself, I played with paper dolls. Playing with paper dolls was much more exciting than playing with a store bought doll.

First, we drew the doll outline on paper with a lead pencil. Then, we added some color with colored pencils.

The pink skin tone. The red lips. Blue, like mine, eyes. Blond hair, nothing like mine. The long blonde hair was the hair I dreamed about. Mine was dark and short.

My dolls had no curves. The body was flat and square, always covered by a one piece bathing suit for modesty.

A friend of mine, a neighborhood girl, drew her dolls with breasts and hips and I liked that. Yet, I could bring myself up to draw that way. Mine stayed flat.

After the outline was completed, we cut them out. It was intricate. The legs and arms were thin and delicate. You had to be careful. I followed the outline with great precision, never cutting off a leg or an arm.

Then, we created the wardrobe. With color pencils. They were the dresses we never had ourselves. The princess ball gowns and short mini dresses that were all the rage in the 70’s.

Natasha and I had about three dresses each. One for the school. One to wear at home. One for the holidays. Our paper dolls had hundreds of dresses. All the dresses had small paper hinges on the shoulders and the sides. We bent the hinges and that was how the dress would stay on a doll.

We spent endless hours drawing and cutting. That's how I became a virtuoso with my sharp paper scissors.

How did you end up in the US?

I responded to a personal ad of my future husband in a PenPal magazine in 1992. It was a black and white print magazine. It was like the Tinder of those times. He was in Miami. I was in Riga. We wrote letters in longhand. It was a romance in writing. We met and married and lived happily for eighteen years. He died in 2010 of Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy.

What have been your challenges in the US and how did you overcome them?

My challenge was to make myself happy. I think that’s a challenge for everyone everywhere. I search for an occupation to make myself happy.

I worked as a fashion model, and later fell in love with balloon artistry. And that's how scissors and I reunited. It felt so good to be working with my hands again.

Someone once asked me if I played a musical instrument. I said, why? He said because of the way your fingers move. I think it is because I have been operating scissors like a musical instrument since age five.

Crafting something that gives you visual, tactile, and emotional pleasure, it is like creating music. It makes you high on pleasure hormones — endorphins.

It has been almost twenty years since I have been working in balloon artistry and happy.

What keeps you going?

Twisting and shaping balloons into sculptures feels like magic. I use scissors to cut a part of a balloon that I don't need. As soon as I cut, I immediately tie the end of a balloon up, so it would not deflate.

Kids who are watching would scream, "You cut it! How come it doesn't lose the air? It is because I tie the balloon with my fingers in a matter of seconds.

When I started, I didn't want to be someone who just made standard balloon dogs. It would be too boring. I needed a challenge.

I began creating balloon crowns, with intricate flowers and jewel-like twisted bubbles. Seeing that regal image of me wearing one of such crowns, South Florida Boca magazine named me “The Russian Queen of Balloons.”

And, yet, creating balloon sculptures had its disadvantages. The life span of balloons is limited. They are often discarded right after the event.

One day, in my local dollar store, I saw artificial flowers for $1 each. Made out of fabric, roses, daffodils, and daisies on long stems. They look almost real. I brought ten of them home. Took out my trusted scissors and cut the flowers off the stems.

My designing mind knew exactly what I wanted to do.

I threaded a long needle and sewed the flowers onto a wide green elastic headband. As a playful touch, I added two large triangles of cat ears on each side. The ears, off-white, had jaguar spots on them.

I put the ready crown on. Woohoo! I was no longer me. I was a wild cat in a flower hat. I was ready to improvise in that character any place I go.

What reaction do you get from the public when you are wearing your creations?

Compliments. Smiles. Hugs. Always positive.

Kids on the street would want to touch me and a mom would scream, “Don’t touch the lady!” And I’d go, “Oh, no, it’s fine.” I totally could be touched, and remembered, and loved, totally.

One day, I sat in my flower cat crown on Lincoln Road, it’s a tourist promenade in Miami Beach. In my thoughts, I was not looking around. Suddenly, a millennial couple came up to me, the guy stretched his hand, offering me money. It was totally unexpected. All I could say was, “Oh, no, thank you!” They thought I was a street performer because they were tourists. I am a performer, yes, but I don’t usually perform on the street for money, I perform at events.

But that’s an idea, I thought, I should just walk up and down Lincoln Road collecting the cash. That made me laugh because I am someone who likes to earn money the hard way. That looked too easy for me.

Another time, I was at a bus stop when an old Cuban guy said to me, “I love you.” And, because of how he said it, I knew what he meant. He wanted to say, “I like the way you are dressed.” But he said I love you because that's all he knew how to say in English. I didn’t think he was a weirdo. I said, “Gracias,” (“Thank You”) and we laughed.

What's your best advice for people who want to get creative with scissors?

Get a great pair of scissors and start using them. Use it on paper and fabric for starters. See how it feels. Does it make you happy? Find inspiration on Pinterest and Instagram.

I now see how I never moved away from the most simple creativity tool such as scissors. I never graduated to computer-aided design, power tools, expensive fabrics or precious stones.

I still alternate between paper, fabric and latex balloons. They are always either recycled or purchased at deep discount stores. Yet, all of my projects require a sharp pair of good scissors.

My affair with scissors that began at age five in Russia is going on strong.

How can readers connect with you?

It’s easy. My Google page. My website.